#ARTHURS FEELINGS ON SUICIDE ARE GOING TO FUCKING BREAK ME

[coulson-is-an-avenger]

MALEVOLENT EPISODE THIRTY ONEEEEEEEEEEE

[ID: A doodled drawing of a person with large, tearful eyes crying at their laptop screen. A drawing of an emoji lying on the floor with tears puddling around their eyes. A screenshot of Kirk from Star Trek bent over a table with his head in his hands in despair. End ID.]

[danielfuckingricciardo]

Please Don’t Jump (It’s Christmas) - Charles Leclerc x Reader

Pairing - Charles Leclerc x Reader

Word Count - 1.8k

Content Warning - Mentions of suicide, swearing

Synopsis - You send Charles a text, and Charles thinks you’re about to do something very bad and he realises he doesn’t think he could ever live without you. Meanwhile, you are off doing something else, completely unaware of Charles’ worries.

Author’s Note - This is inspired by the song Please Don’t Jump (It’s Christmas) by Dallon Weekes. It’s a really good song and I wanted to write a suitably depressing fic to go along with it but I thought, no, I won’t, I’ll write something wholesome and cute instead. So while this is kinda sad at the start, I promise you it has a happy ending. Enjoy!

“Fuck, (y/n), answer your fucking phone!” Charles grumbles into his phone, before hanging up and throwing it onto the bed in frustration.

“No answer?” Arthur says from his position resting against the door frame.

“Does it look like she answered?” Charles yells. He feels the tears pricking the corners of his eyes as he shouts at brother. He’s not angry with Arthur, not really. He’s just scared, scared you were about to do something stupid.

It was just a text. A few words on a screen, but they terrified him to his very core.

‘I’m doing it. I’m sorry Charles. I love you ♥︎.’

Those words, the words you had typed and sent before going to do god knows what. Throw yourself into traffic? Jump off of a building? Charles’ mind was racing as he couldn’t help but imagine all the horrible ways you might have… No, he couldn’t even think that word. He didn’t want to think that you would, that you could. It’s selfish, but he can’t help but think what he’d do without you. You were his best friend, his world, and though he’d never said it out loud, he loved you. Fuck, he loved you so much it hurt, and he was terrified he wouldn’t ever get to see you again. The way that you laugh at his stupid jokes, the way you smile so warmly, the way you squeeze him just a little too tight when he hugs you. He would have cherished each of these stupid things more if he knew that any time could have been the last.

“Where would she go? People tend to go somewhere they feel safe when they…” Arthur says, and Charles’ eyes go wide.

“I know. Wait here, she might come back. If she does, tell her I’m out looking for her, and then text me immediately, yes?” Charles says, and Arthur nods.

Charles grabs his discarded phone from the bed and races out of the door, skipping the elevator, it takes too much time, instead opting to sprint down the stairs as fast as his legs would carry him.

If you’re anywhere, anywhere at all, it’s on the roof of your old building, the place you grew up, the place you both used to camp out under the stars when you were kids. You’d lay together on your mother’s sleeping bag, filled with marshmallows and your mum’s hot chocolate, and try and pick out all of the constellations in the sky. Charles remembered those nights so fondly. Even then, he thinks he was in love. He might not have realised it at the time, but he was. He’d loved you for as long as he could remember, and he knew he couldn’t bare to be without you.

The doorman doesn’t stop him as he makes for the elevator. Everyone in this damn country knows who he is, he could probably break into a jewellery store in the middle of the day, empty the cabinets, and they’d probably thank him for it. He thought about the stairs, but going up is a lot harder than going down, and he had been slacking on the cardio the past few days due to the festive season.

Charles bursts through the doors and up onto the roof, looking around to see it empty. You weren’t there. A sob escapes his lips as he looks around, hoping you were going to magically appear, and he could hold you, kiss you, tell you it was all going to be okay. But you didn’t appear, Charles was alone on the rooftop, and you weren’t there.

Charles’ phone starts to buzz in his pocket, and he fumbles to grab it, his hands shaking.

He is greeted by your smiling face on the screen, and he exhales a shaky chuckle. You’re still here. You’re alive.

“Fuck, (y/n), where are you? Are you okay?” Charles says, his voice barely there as a single tear drips down his cheek.

“Yeah, I’m fine. It was okay actually, not as painful as I would have expected.” You say, and Charles furrows his brows in confusion.

“A-are you calling me from the afterlife?” He whispers, his eyes wide.

“The afterlife? What the fuck are you talking about? I just got out of the piercing place.” You say, and Charles slaps himself in the forehead at his own stupidity, chuckling slightly in relief.

“The piercing place, fuck, I thought you were gonna…I…” Charles says, unable to form a coherent thought, just so happy you weren’t about to do what he thought you were going to do.

“What? I told you the other day, I wanted to go and get my tongue pierced, but you said it was a stupid idea and would almost definitely get all gross and infected.” You say. “Wait, lemme switch to video, I’ll show you. It’s not gross, I promise.”

The phone vibrates against Charles’ ear and he presses the button, and your face shows up on screen once again, this time you were sticking out your tongue, your eyebrows raised. Your expression changes as you see Charles’ flushed face, and the background that was almost definitely not his flat.

“Are you okay? Where the hell are you? That looks like the roof of my parents’ building.” You say, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“It is, I.. uh… I’m stupid, I thought that text… I thought you were gonna…” Charles attempts to say, but he can’t quite finish the sentence because he still can’t bring himself to say those words.

“You thought I was going to what? Kill myself?” You say, a confused look on your face.

“Uh, yeah, yeah, I did.” Charles says, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Charles, I might make a lot of jokes about it, but I would never do it. Especially not on Christmas Eve. Besides, I’m in therapy, I’ve got my pills, and I’ve got you. So I’m happy.” You say, offering him a sweet smile.

“I make you happy?” He asks.

“Of course you do. I love you.” You say, sticking out your tongue at him once again, revealing the small silver piercing in the centre of your tongue.

“But do you mean it? Because tonight I had a lot of feelings, and time to think, and I love you too. But like, I love you love you. I think I always have. I genuinely don’t know what I would do if you weren’t in my life.” Charles says, and you stop in your tracks.

“Wait there, I’m not far away.” You say, before hanging up the phone.

You pick up your pace as you walk down the streets, your heels clicking against the concrete pavements. There was no way you were saying what you wanted to say over the phone. No way.

After your brisk walk, a trip in the elevator, and the few steps up to the roof, you spot Charles sat on the edge of the roof, looking out at the city.

Your heels clicking alert him to your presence and he turns to you, spotting that your arms were full with the sleeping bag and a jug of hot chocolate.

“I called in downstairs, and she’d just made a pot. She hates the tongue piercing by the way, I don’t think anyone likes it but me.” You say, holding the sleeping bag out to Charles.

He takes it and lays it out in your usual spot, not saying a word.

“I didn’t want to say it over the phone. It felt artificial, you know. This feels better.” You say, taking a seat on the floor and pouring yourself a mug of the creamy hot chocolate.

Charles sits next to you and takes the other mug, taking a sip of the beverage which warms him up in the cold winter air. In his rush to find you, he didn’t even stop to grab a jacket, and so his arms were bare in the mild Monaco winter.

“You cold? Here, get under my scarf.” You say, wrapping your scarf around both your own and Charles’ shoulders, forcing him to pull closer to you.

“I’m sorry, If I freaked you out, or scared you with what I said. If you don’t feel the same, that’s fine too, I just-“

You cut Charles off mid-sentence as you press as soft kiss to his lips.

“Every time I say it, I mean it Charles. I love you. So much.” You say, smiling sweetly at him.

“Really? You’ve always meant it?” He questions.

“Always. Ever since we were kids and I’d sit here and make up constellations to try and impress you.” You laugh, taking another sip of your warm drink.

“You made those up?” Charles asks, and you chuckle.

“Yep, I know fuck all about astronomy. But you thought stars were cool and I wanted to impress you.” You say.

“Hmm, well you were very good at making stuff up about stars. I believed every word.” Charles says, and you rest your head gently on his shoulder.

“Ten minutes ago you believed I was going to jump off the roof.” You say, and Charles chuckles, shaking his head at his previous actions.

“Yeah, yeah, I am stupid, we don’t need to get into that one again.” He says.

“But you were willing to run around the city, arms bare, trying to find me and stop me. You have such a beautiful soul. That’s why I love you, Charles Leclerc.” You say, and Charles presses a soft kiss to your forehead.

You sit up, turning to face Charles as you press your lips to his for a real kiss. You wrap your hands, which are still warm from holding the hot chocolate, around his neck to pull him closer as he deepens the kiss. Charles wraps his arms around your waist as he pulls you closer, but you’re interrupted as you wince and pull back.

“Are you okay?” Charles asks, his eyes wide with concern.

“Yeah, yeah, just no french kissing until this thing heals.” You say, sticking your tongue out to point at the silver ball.

“Noted.” Charles says, before gently pressing his lips to yours once again, only to quickly pull away.

“You okay? Does the piercing gross you out?” You ask, fiddling with the ball between your teeth.

“No, it’s not that, I actually kinda like it, actually. No, I left Arthur in my flat, he’s probably still terrified.” Charles says as he pulls out his phone to begin texting his brother.

“I have an idea.” You say, taking Charles’ phone out of his hand and opening the camera.

You snap a quick photo of you kissing Charles on the cheek, a shocked expression on his face.

You type a quick response and hit send, passing the phone back to Charles.

‘Not killing myself, got my tongue pierced. Your brother is cute, likes the taste of metal apparently.’

Charles reads the text and chuckles, shaking the head at your crude reference before wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

You stay there on the roof together until it’s well past midnight. Christmas Day. Just staring at all the stars and constellations you once pretended to know to impress a boy you like. Who would have thought that, ten years later, you’d still be sat together under the stars, but this time, you both knew how much you loved one another.

[call-sign-shark]

I’m listening to Ultraviolence by Lana Del Ray and I can’t shake the feeling of a fic with Arthur based off this song. I feel like it fits him so well! I can just imagine a toxic relationship between him and the reader where he hits her or harms her in some way (intentional or not) but she keeps going back to him

“He hit me and it felt like a kiss..”

Plssss lmao the way this works so well

No need to do anything with it, just wanted to share because I know you’re a slut for Arthur like I am

“Because I know you’re a slut for Arthur” SIS YOU’RE SO RIIIIIGHT. HE’S MY SOFT KITTEN. 😩

Ultraviolence || Dark!Arthur Shelby x Reader

TW: angst ++, abusive husband, toxic relationship, depiction of domestic violence, alcoholism, if you think this trope have a good ending you should not read it, no proof reading: this is raw, unedited and prolly super badly written??

Words: 1k

Each inch gained by the clock’s needle, your heart raced more as if it feared to be pierced by its the sharp steel. Nibbling on your fingers’ skin compulsively, you sat on the large luggage you prepared one hour ago because you knew that when Arthur came home after midnight, he was not the man you fell in love with anymore. His gruff voice, usually lavishing you with the sweetest pet names he could find, would call you deadly nightshade — because when you looked at him with fear and fury in your oh-so- beautiful but teary eyes, it felt like a caustic poison was running through his veins, burning him from within and dissolving his sanity.

The door opened, your soul wept.

“Oi Y/N, where the fook are ye?” The gravel in his tone, who used to make you shiver with desire, sent shivers of fright down your spine. You took a deep breath, struggling to keep composure: this night would be the last you suffered from his violent love. After months of hesitating, coming back to him almost crawling, you decided that this nightmare had to stop. Somehow, you knew you had to flee from his claws before you ended up dead and cold — either by suicide or by his hands.

He stumbled in the living room, an empty bottom of whisky hanging from his hand. His steel blue eyes, half closed due to the amount of alcool he drank and cocaine he snorted, were looking for you, “Bloody hell Y/N, a good wife always welcome her husband when he comes back home. So be a good fookin’ woman and come greet your ol’ Arthur with the warmth he fucking deserve.” He grunted, before his frightening gaze fell on you.

He looked at you, and you could hear the sirens howling in the back of your head.

“What the hell?” He whispered at the sight of your packed stuff, slowly understanding your intentions, “Are you fucking serious?”

“I can’t do this anymore Arthur,” words left your mouth, falling from your quivering lips, “This is going to kill me… I’m sorry.”

“You wanna leave me?” He asked, bewildered. The sound of the bottle shattering on the wooden floor echoed in the living room, answering to the screams of his own heart breaking. You hated yourself at the idea of hurting him but you could not do it anymore, loving him was really hard. At first your thought it would be enough to save him, to heal his soul and mind, but love was not enough— your love was never enough.

“I’m sorry.” You got up and grabbed your luggage, before making your way to the door. Yet, Arthur firmly grabbed your wrist as you passed by, his grip so sharp it bruised your skin almost instantly.

“You’re not going anywhere, love.”

“Let me go. Please Arthur, if you love me you have to let me go.”

“I said you’re not. Going. Any-fookin-where.” He retorted, his hoarse voice growling with more hatred as anger boiled within him.

“Let me go you fucking bastard!” You bursted out, panic overwhelming your aching soul as you felt his nails digging into your skin.

The horrific sound of the blow that followed made the skies shook with sorrow. Pain stung your cheek, its burning sensation spreading on all the left side of your face. You let out a woeful whimper, tears flowing from your eyes almost instantly. He hit you, and it felt like a kiss, because it was his way of loving you when he was drunk.

“YOU AIN’T LEAVING ME, YOU POISON. I’M ARTHUR FUCKING SHELBY RIGHT?” He barked.

His hand grabbed you a second time — but it was not to make you dance anymore, like he used to do when you were kids.

Pain rain down on you,

With his ultraviolence

Ultraviolence.

“I’m … Im so sorry…” Arthur kept saying over and over again, his hands on both side of his head as he pulled his own hair, devastated with the view of crimson stains on your face.

Panicking, he then grabbed your chin and almost suffocated you with his lips, assaulting your bleeding mouth with desperate kisses, “I’m so sorry Y/N, it won’t happen again. I just don’t know what crossed my mind, it wasn’t me… it was the fucking whisky! The bloody snow! I won’t do it again, I swear doll I will never hurt you anymore… I— I love you… God I love you so much I’ll die without you.”

His blue eyes overflowed with tears of gold, like lemonade.

“Arthur… I —“ Words choked in your throat as you saw him cry. The monster had left, leaving him sobbing like a beaten child. He raised your gaze toward yours when you called him, and you knew he was your gentle Arthur again.

But you could not forgive him again and again.

Could you?

He would be the death of you.

“Please, I’ll do anything for you. Please, Y/N.”

The cacophony of your mind almost made you wince, for your thoughts crashed against your skull in a messy bacchanalia. Run away, you had to run away… so why did your body remained petrified? Why did you gently stroke his hair, looking at him, desperately in love?

It was stronger than you, stronger than reason, you hated to see him cry. You despised the way he was hating himself, genuinely guilty.

But you had to go.

To go.

But you stayed.

Don’t beg, stop telling me you love me. Please.

Please I can’t. It’s never enough.

Give me all of that ultraviolence.

“I love you too, Arthur. I love you forever.” Your voice was merely a whisper as warm blood ran from your nostrils, tainting your lips and dying on your chin. Your fingers gently grazed his neck as you knew he loved — all you wanted was to stop his pain. To see him smile with that stupid, irresistible grin that made you fall for him.

“I can’t lose you, Y/N.” His lips laid a gentle kiss on the corner of your mouth, the tip of his tongue tasting the blood. His voice was filled with sincere love, “I’ll change. I swear to God I’ll change for you,” Somehow he really believed in what he said, but the truth was he would never change… And you knew it.

“You won’t lose me — maybe you could — help me putting my stuff back where they belong?” You stuttered, your whole body about to collapse in his arms for it just wanted to feel his touch.

“Of course I’ll do.”

Arthur smiled.

You did too.

But Angels cried,

for they knew that he hurt you and it felt like true love.

Thank you so much for sharing your thoughts with me honey, know that you can make yourself at home in my ask box, especially when it’s about babyboy Arthur.

I love this Lana’s song so much, and I completely understand the vibes you felt. It would suit so well in a Dark!Arthur fic — in fact I loved it so much I could not help but write a little something for ya! Even though I do feel in-character Arthur would be far too terrified to hurt Reader and would not physically harm . Maybe being rougher, bruising her with his grip without doing it on purpose. But he would not hit her (cf: office scene with Linda in S5). Yet — I decided to go dark with this one because, as you said, “he hit me and it felt like a kiss” is just perfect for this sad trope.

[canmom]

Worth the Candle, end of 228.

so. I understand it now. this is Baru Cormorant: When They Cry.

i thought this story was going to be stupid fun, in a kind of well-above-average litrpg way - I was (kinda still am) very depressed and the other books I was reading were too heavy. instead, it surprised me be being good, like actually good: a genuinely thoughtful, well structured and even insightful story. this is not something that I ever expected to write about a litrpg isekai webserial, and certainly not a 'ratfic'.

it does, admittedly, take a while to come into its own. what 'its own' turns out to be is, as one commentator deemed it, 'competence porn for therapy'.

at first i thought it was about grief, then i recalibrated to a really scathing self-crit, as the story worked to absolutely dismantle self insert protagonist Juniper interpersonally and ideologically. now, 25 chapters from the end (which is still like an entire novel lol) it seems to be... complex metafiction about learning to work through shit and understand yourself and other people? woven of course in between exploring a variety of off-the-wall magic systems and settings, with an analytic eye to how and why they're made.

it's safe to say it blows Yudkowsky out of the fucking water. if more ratfic is like this, i might have to get into the genre.

it can be quite... dry isn't the right word, but there's a lot of chapters of people having penetrating conversations about their motivations and feelings, or coming up with plans, or the nature of the story they're inhabiting. which isn't to say it can't hit the feelings or evoke a mood... especially if that mood is an oppressive one, but there's plenty of genuine humour. it's often kind of horny but in a really analytic way, where it's about breaking down hangups around sex that largely happens off camera, and sexuality is just part of what comes under the scope. in some ways it feels... anthropological, in the sense of autoethnography - which I suppose is what it is, given how much Wales seems to be putting his own experiences into it, though of course I'm not sure exactly the line between what is directly roman à clef for his own life and what is there for a rhetorical point. some of the constructions and parallels feel too neat to be exactly real, but that doesn't say a lot, bc if you're fictionalising something you'd neaten it up.

it steers determinedly towards just about all the thorniest topics you can think of: grief, depression, suicide, rape (of its protagonist), genocide, eugenics. astonishingly, given its peers, it handles them with - for the most part, I'm not really sure about where they're going with the Tuung - a lot of grace.

it can be a bit cheeky with the metafiction occasionally but generally uses it purposefully, in the same way that a When They Cry VN teaches you how to read it. (promise I'll get back to that). in general it commits to the bit, hard. a brief arc riffs on the one page rpg Actual Cannibal Shia LaBeouf, in a way that sounds like it would be way too stupid, and yet it somehow makes it work by playing it serious.

it's a curious story to read because you have to take everything on at least four levels: what it means on the base level, how it fits in to the story that is being constructed with the diegetic DM character (the 'narrative' that the characters are aware of), how it reflects back on the inciting incidents on Joon's D&D games and grief spiral on Earth, and the purpose it's being put towards by Wales in the webnovel. (we can go further and take after Eco in distinguishing the author suggested by the text from the actual person Alexander Wales, but that's more @baeddel 's department.)

and now I've finally reached the Fel Seed Incident. cw rape. also spoilers.

the Fel Seed Incident is foreshadowed from early in the story, as the most heinous thing that Joon did while misanthropically turning on everyone after the death of his best friend Arthur. it's pretty much exactly what I thought, given the foreshadowing: Joon created a cheap grimdark body horror scenario to vent his feelings, that scenario centred on a sadistic rapist villain, a new player who Joon held in contempt joined the group, who was a rape survivor, and Joon steamrolled through several attempts to get him to back down, drove her away, flipped his lid and drove her boyfriend away, and made the session miserable for everyone by making Fel Seed invincible. most of this was pretty much spelled out already, but not the rape part.

this is the keystone of the whole story, and the reason it's delivered so late is because basically everything leading up to this point is telling us how to interpret this scene. particularly the arc where Joon gets raped by his sentient house, who then goes away for a long time to be taught a sense of ethics by the girl who eats demons to get therapy insight (I say, very matter of factly). Joon was pathetic and shitty, but it wasn't some grand act of sadism, just a tawdry story of lashing out at someone in the wrong place who he considered an annoyance beneath his notice - a recurring theme we've come to see throughout the rest of the story. it's presented very levelly. we've seen Bethel's efforts to change, we've seen Joon understandably not wanting to have anything to do with her, studiously examined that situation from each side. it all makes depressing sense, just as the scenes of abuse in Umineko do: this is how people act in these circumstances. 'well observed' you say.

yet it's not just going there to rub our faces in how much our protagonist sucks. because the whole point is to take it seriously, not wallow in self loathing. Grak doesn't kill himself and commits to living, Bethel and Valencia take the time to work at learning from their enormous mistakes. beating up on yourself is a sort of perverse defence mechanism. if you suck irredeemably you don't have to try.

the Fel Seed Incident is thus essentially a synecdoche (drink) of Joon's spiral and of the themes it's driving at, and thus a fitting capstone battle. it's almost annoyingly well put together.

but it's also rather self aware about this. Joon has by this point figured out that he's supposed to learn things from his adventures. the protagonists try to figure out what sort of narrative they're in and talk about postmodernism. so it's probably going to be about more than that.

self-improvement is the whole selling point of the rationalist ideology: the idea that if you follow Yudkowsky's teachings you can learn to put things in a mathematical perspective that will helpfully set you straight on matters from epistemology (Bayesianism solves everything) to ethics (utilitarianism is the answer, but you need to take into account a bunch of weird edge cases) to niche causes like cryonics and AI research. in fact, it's simply a cult. with all the shit that comes with, which means yes, rape and dead bodies.

many ideas in the story draw from the rationalist milieu. Joon's plan to 'win forever', usurp the DM and create a heaven that solves suffering, is of course an oblique spin the friendly AI singularity that Yudkowsky hopes to build. the soul magic arc, with its ideas of fiddling with motivations, is also about this. it seeps in in other ways, e.g. the idea raised now and then about keeping promises so other agents will trust you to keep promises is one of the founding elements of Roko's Basilisk. other elements, like the Second Empire, seem like an extrapolation of a society run by rat ideals.

I do not like the 'd' word. reading Eva and Madoka as 'genre deconstructions' obscures much more than it reveals (and also has very little to do with whatever Derrida was getting at). but it is honestly surprising to me that this is a celebrated ratfic reads like a splendid dismantling of rationalism.

the rape angle is relevant here. Yudkowsky's story Three Worlds Collide, a story about metaethics, rather infamously presents a future human society where rape is ubiquitous and considered a mild annoyance. it's like defamiliarising or whatever - don't you see, it's just our cultural assumptions! - and if you think it is going to do anything interesting, of course not, it's just Richard Stallman levels of pigheaded edgy obliviousness.

by contrast, the arc where Bethel rapes Joon... well, it feels almost like it's running down a checklist of how to write a realistic rape. Joon is raped by someone he knows well, he clearly says no, but when this is ignored, goes along with it in part because he's hyperconscious of the possibility of sudden violence; he knows something is up but blames himself because he was physically aroused and thinks it's just arbitrary cultural hangups and because he's a guy; he is reluctant to talk about it with his friends because he doesn't want his rapist to just be killed and she's important to their organisation. his attacker is a rape survivor herself in a complicated way, and she has spun a story where she was in the right that has to be very carefully unpicked by someone close to her and then she must take time to work through and change the whole way she relates to people, and there's some uncertainty in the others whether she's actually changed or just putting up a show of it. you could basically say it's cribbed from a "transformative justice" case study, but without the buzzwords.

and like, in a metafictional story like this one, situated in a milieu founded by Yudkowsky, that seems kind of like a statement. 'pay attention class, here's how to write a rape'. that might be uncharitable - i haven't seen how other rationalist writers handle it. (you can write a web novel without rape? ha, as if.)

Amaryllis in particular is the epitome of an idealised rationalist, effective altruist model. she's not emotionless, but manages her emotions clinically, according to scientific principles. she obsessively prioritises utilitarianism over her own feelings about a situation ('purchase fuzzies and utilons separately' is how it went i think?) and relentlessly builds power in order to remake the world according to her vision. she's hypercompetent as an administrator and has bizarrely mechanical ways of dealing with her own feelings. and it generally pays off and doesn't blow up in her face! (analogy: she's kind of who Baru Cormorant thinks she is, especially at the outset when she's most indoctrinated by Farrier.)

all of this seems to be very deliberate, given how Joon and the other characters react to her, but I'm scratching my head about the endgame here. I suppose, if each companion reflects some quality of Joon, we read Amaryllis and the slow burn romance as some kind of spin on gradually being enticed by the ideal of lesswrongism itself? but this story puts such an emphasis on self-understanding that there is no way it would uncritically present Amaryllis as an ideal. and with the Tuung essentially being put through what is painted as a hyperaccelerated residential school system that's been flagged up as an impending conflict a few times, and this story consistently choosing to steer into conflict rather than take an easy out to the point that the characters notice, it has to be going somewhere with this.

I'm honestly not sure how it's going to end, at this point. obviously Joon will find Arthur and confront the Dungeon Master, maybe he'll get to immanentise his personal eschaton. it would be too cheap for him to just go back to Earth with a bunch of lessons learned, especially with the IC meta discussions signaling hard against that. but it's the kind of excited expectant wait where I think I'll be surprised.

obviously I'm hooked. it's a kind of story it's very hard to share with anyone because it's 1.65 million words long, drawing from two milieus (D&D and LessWrong) that are very familiar to me but not necessarily anyone else I know, the premise on the face of it is kind of a hard sell, and as we've just discussed it kinda goes relentlessly for the hard stuff. all in all it's a Brynbait story. if you're tempted by what's above, I'd give it a shot.

aaand damn I guess I prematurely reviewed. I wasn't going to write until I'd finished the book, but I guess I'm writing now! I'll probably see the end after sleeping so expect a followup then.

also. he really did fuck the goddamn deer (tf was involved). and it wasn't a joke but meant something. fascinating thing, this book.

[cristalconnors]

ORIGINAL SCREENPLAY

Shortlisted: Beau is Afraid / Full Time / Joyland / Stonewalling / Tótem

THE NOMINEES ARE:

ANATOMY OF A FALL, written by Arthur Harari and Justine Triet

SANDRA: That recording is not reality. It is a part of it, maybe. If you have an extreme moment in life, an emotional peak, and you focus on it, of course it crushes everything. It may seem like irrefutable proof, but it actually warps everything. It’s not reality. It’s our voices, that’s true, but it’s not who we are.

VINCENT: I don’t give a fuck about what is “reality,” ok? You need to start seeing yourself the way others are going to perceive you. A trial is not about the truth.

OTHER PEOPLE'S CHILDREN, written by Rebecca Zlotowski

ALI: It doesn’t mean anything. She’s only five years-old.

RACHEL: Of course, I know. But it still hurts.

ALI: I don’t know...

RACHEL: What don’t you know?

ALI: It’s all about you. She does it to her mom. And to me, too!

RACHEL: It’s all about me, are you serious? From the start I’ve followed your schedules. I met her when you decided. I eat and sleep when it suits you both. Same with breaks and weekends. It’s all about you!

ALI: I didn’t think you were making concessions.

RACHEL: Oh, give me a break. Don’t you see I’m getting attached to her? I’m responsible for her, I deal with her sulking moods. Except that I’m disposable.

ROTTING IN THE SUN, written by Pedro Peirano and Sebastián Silva

SEBASTIÁN: That guy actually swims away and kills himself. I’m not that brave.

JORDAN: You’re not that brave? Don’t joke about suicide. Like, for real. My sister killed herself. *bursts out laughing* I’m kidding! She didn’t kill herself, she’s a nurse. She saves lives! But for real, suicide is, like, not brave. Suicide’s for fucking fags.

SEBASTIÁN: Sure, you do need some balls…

JORDAN: It's for faggots! You hear me? I like life! Come meet my friends, you’re gonna hate them.

TRENQUE LAUQUEN, written by Laura Citarella and Laura Paredes

EZEQUIEL: I mean, apart from the thousand books, what’s the mystery?

LAURA: Read this.

EZEQUIEL: Out loud? “Carmen: I feel swept away. I feel like until yesterday I was a child, and that you have made me an adult. Something has just begun. I have lost my virginity again, this time definitively. All the women I have been with before, the women to whom I was married for over ten years, every one of my lovers appear before me like little girls. Your vagina, Carmen. Your vagina. Someone has given me a treasure map, and I have started to explore it. I want to return to your vagina again and again. Immerse myself in it, give my life to it. If I could live there, Carmen, if that devouring sex would accept me as a permanent inhabitant, I would, after so many years, finally be happy. My phallus is a poor innocent. A poor blind man who has entered the jungle and cannot now leave. I am crying. I am a castaway. I am lost. Paolo.” *beat* The mystery is her.

AND THE CRISTAL GOES TO...

MAY DECEMBER, written by Samy Burch and Alex Mechanik

ELIZABETH: I wanted to be on Broadway… When I first told my parents, I was nine or ten, and they looked so disappointed. They said, “But honey, you’re so much smarter than that.”

GRACIE: And what did you say? ...are you smarter than that?

ELIZABETH: *laughs* I don't know.

GRACIE: What do they do, your parents?

ELIZABETH: They’re academics. My mother wrote a pretty respected book on epistemic relativism…?

GRACIE: My mother wrote a great recipe for blueberry cobbler.

ELIZABETH: What was your mother like?

GRACIE: She was beautiful.

[malevolententity]

WOE PROJECT 6 BE UPON YE

every day my patience with pattern markers grows thin. i can and will write essays about this franken pattern project that i Am calling done for now but i might do some more work on in the future. SO this is two patterns of the same concept that ive put together because i was not going to fully reset because the first pattern was absolute ass. i truly do not know if the issue was with me or the pattern as they would call for stitches and then tell you how to do the stitch and it was a different stitch! and i made sure it wasnt a uk vs us terms issue but i still had issues! the dud coaster is the darker blue one my mug is pictured on i like how after a lot of trial and error i got the flowers to look flowerish but idk not a big fan of it waaaay to much effort trying to make the stitches work that ill never work it up again. the basket is very pretty honestly but to actually hold the coasters ive had to stuff it with all my yarn scraps that m hoping to one day maybe turn into my own cobbled together yarn? because without the stuffing it just collapses from the weight of the coasters which is why! this project may not be done as there is another basket tutorial m looking at (that goes with the other 2 coasters i made) that based on how it looks is flatter and might hold the coasters much better. but that is definitely a thing ill work up down the road and Probably not tomorrow as i do adore the little basket i have now. AND SPEAKING OF THE TWO OTHER COASTERS i love the flower pattern the whole coaster was a time sink because of how the leaves must be worked but it was so very worth it. from project 3 (tarot sleeve) i still have a skein and a half of that red and purple that if i ever work up more of this specific flower pattern i might see what that yarn gives me! although most likely ill just find another flower pattern to try (theres a tulip one m interested in) so that every coaster is a different flower and looks the most like a bouquet as i can get. unfortunately i used acrylic yarn so i am loathe to use these with hot mugs but time shall tell with the shit coaster if i can use it with hot mugs long term!

also this project took roughly 6 hours with all the frogging trying to make the original pattern work and in generally learning 3 new patterns! (last hour and a half from episode 5 all the way to an hour into episode 7)

season 2 thoughts so far

dude can the lil guys just get a break? joui almost died AGAIN BUT LIKE A DEATH SAVE HAD TO HAPPEN LIKE BRUH LEAVE HIM ALONE FSDJKHFS arthur has had the worst fucking time and honestly i would not be surprised if towards the end of the season he does a suicide run because hes lost everything and everyone but ivete and idk if thats enough to keep him from going insane. i just. i dont know how to put episode 6 into words besides that i am soooo glad to have made it out of that episode because it was Heavy. episode 7 has been chill for the most part. they kept talking about sucking hoses. they kept saying various party members needed to strip to prove they were gonna start trying to shoot each other again. pretty normal table top hijinks and a good place to end for the night/the project.

i honestly have no idea what m making next. part of me Wants to try making a cardigan but all i have is acrylic which is itchy. and i def dont have the skeins for a whole cardigan plus cardigans i feel like would take minimum 22 hours? and i dont really. wanna have a 20+ hour single project. i like my current insanity of having done like 40ish hours of projects this past month and none of them going over 10 hours (besides the wretched bag). time to go through my ravelry in a few days time and see if anything jumps as being interesting or if m gonna have to spin a wheel to pick a project.

[thegeminisage]

5, 15, 20, and a VERY HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!

THANK YOU <333

5. What’s a fic idea you’ve had that you will never write?

i came up with and outlined, in a lot detail, a fixit for that alec/magnus plot i really hate in s3, where he gets bitchy about magnus's exes. it involved alec touching a cursed object and aging rapidly, and while the gang ran around rushing to reverse the curse before alec died of old age, he and magnus had to reckon with his mortality several decades ahead of time, with a side helping of "both magnus and alec have been suicidal before but now one of them is ACTUALLY dying, that's so fucked up!" ultimately the only way to break the curse was for alec to accept his death (and by extension, magnus eventually moving on and loving someone else) as inevitable - and genuinely wish for magnus's eventual happiness anyway. i don't really like immortal alec fics because it feels cheap and unrealistic, and i'm also not sure he'd want to be immortal anyway (outliving his parabatai? ouch). i got really really REALLY mad about it and then just sort of fell out of love with shadowhunters the longer the last season went on and so i never got started working on it, and now i highly doubt that i ever will. ironically, one of my favorite scenes that i had planned wasn't even magnus/alec but jace & alec. it involved alec, minutes away from the end of his life, being asked "will it hurt" by an extremely damp and teary jace - referring to the loss of a parabatai, because of course alec would know.

15. How do you come up with titles for your fics/chapters?

answered here!

20. What’s a favorite title for a fic you’ve written?

mmmmmm that is so hard. a toss up between "anchor" and "how arthur got his groove back" i think. for anchor, that one single word was so central to the theme of the entire story, especially one of the two climatic scenes (you can have two climaxes as a treat if you need one for each half of the ship...), it encompassed it all SO WELL i don't think a better title for that fic could possibly exist. on the other hand, how arthur got his groove back means something to me on a personal level - i got off of writing for a long time, and refound my own groove with that fic, so the title is really about me, in addition to being about arthur. (originally, i was going to title it "the burning prince" - i liked that title so much i decided to do chapter titles too just so i could use it for chapter 4.) it's two different kinds of good!

[ASK MEME]

[calummss]

The Gentlest Despondency | Thomas Shelby

masterlist

part three of the odd comfort series

I II <- please read part 1 and 2 otherwise this won’t make sense

summary: your arranged marriage finally takes a toll on you

pairing: modern day! tommy shelby x fem! reader

words: 1.9k

a/n: tommy is NOT canon. i altered his character to my liking for the story, though he's pretty much the same just more sarcastic and flirty

Most of your days with Thomas Shelby were spent bickering if you didn’t lock yourself in your room and ignored every person in the house until he came back from whatever business he had to attend. Business was more important than the new toy he purchased… It was no good ignoring Thomas Shelby like you did the others. That was pictured clear when he kicked your bedroom door open, breaking it in the process. He forced you to go out with one of his men named John to go buy a new door because apparently since it was your doing that broke the door.

— ‘Jesus fucking christ! Do you like manhandling women half your size? Does it make you feel big and strong? Intimidating?

— ‘Little mouse, your mother never washed out that filthy mouth of yours? And yes I do.’

More ridiculous conversations like that followed…

— ‘I’m going out with Chelsea. I’ll be back later!’

— ‘No you’re not.’

— ‘Why not?’

— ‘Because I said so.’

— ‘It’s 2021. Women have rights you know. Maybe you should open that law book that’s collecting dust in the library.’

— ‘Do you know what right you have, little mouse?’

— ‘I’m sure you’ll enlighten me.’

— ‘The right to shut up and go back and change out of that tight dress before I tear it off myself.’

— ‘Little mouse.’

— ‘Stop calling me that. It makes my blood boil.’

— ‘You being angry only turns me on.’

— ‘Have you ever killed a woman?’

— ‘No.’

— ‘I don’t believe you. It’s just the type of fun you’d love.’

— ‘Are you offering to be my first?’

— ‘Oh look, Arthur needs help baking a cake.’

— ‘Are you filling out a crossword puzzle?’

— ‘You have eyes don’t you?’

— ‘Don’t you have more evil agendas to go through?’

— ‘Ticked them all off already.’

— ‘I have business from Thursday to Sunday so I won’t be here.’

— ‘What a bummer.’

When you dread the day you give up your last name—your identity, and have to perform the crucial ritual to really bond two people, days start to blend into each other. Two weeks felt like 48 hours. Time went by faster than you could blink, and you were scared.

You were born into violence, raised by violence, consulted by violence, comforted, and acknowledged by it. But it was your family’s violence that you knew and were able to survive. You had no idea of Thomas Shelby’s violence. What he was capable of. Yes, you’ve heard of the incident where Thomas killed more than 100 men that specific day three years ago but those men had it coming… Men that glowed in desperation for underage sex slaves. They were scum. And that was the only time you ever thanked Thomas Shelby for anything, even if he didn’t know.

What was he going to do with you? Would he force you into bed and fuck you until you bled out or went numb? Would he be different and not take you until you were comfortable? Or was he Satan's offspring that would do it on the altar? In front of the man that swore celibacy, your family that had known you since you were a newborn, or his family? Nothing but questions filled your mind as you spaced out.

The dress was almost as tight as the invisible noose tied around your neck. Marrying a Shelby was a sucide mission but as far as suicide missions go, no one cared. They had to be carried out despite what the person risking their life thought of it.

White: Goodness, innocence, purity, and virginity.

Sexist ritual that made you sick to your stomach.

You told Thomas that you’d marry him (not like you had a choice), but there was no way in hell that you’d wear a white dress. Like the creep he was, Thomas suggested a pink dress instead since it was your favourite colour. Of course he knew that but then again did everyone else since your entire wardrobe barely had any other colour except the occasional purple and green.

Thomas also did not care. Quote: ‘I really don’t care what your dress looks like, little mouse, as long as the name Shelby stands behind your name.’

Which was kind of sweet if you took away the part where he is a heartless psychopath that forced you into this marriage.

‘Stay still, Mrs. Shelby.’ Mary pulled at the corset strings to tie it so tight you felt as if you’d die of asphyxiation.

‘I’m still an Eyrie.’ You breathe in, corset sitting tighter at your waist.

Mary was a rather hateful woman for her age. When you think of old ladies the colour pink may come to mind, flowers, knitting, feeding seagulls by the sea. Mary was like the colour of wine. Dark. Thorns, fire, knives came to mind when you thought of her. She’s been hateful since you arrived. Since you stepped foot into the Shelby household you were treated like an outsider, like you were competition. Maybe she was delusional because Thomas Shelby would never choose some wrinkly mole rat over someone young and fresh; you. This treatment reminded you that you never were and never would be a Shelby. Even in the eyes of God.

‘Stay still.’

‘Why?’ You steadied yourself by holding your arms out in front. ‘So you can cut off my oxygen supply on Thomas Shelby’s order?’

‘Funny.’ Her lips pressed together, her eyes burning holes into the mirror to look at you. ‘Now hold still or I’ll do it on my own order.’

You rolled your eyes in response. Ugh. ‘Hag.’

‘Rat.’ She pulled the ribbon tighter, shutting you up for the rest for the fitting.

At the altar you said the dreading words, bile climbing up your throat as your hands slightly trembled in the giant ones of Thomas Shelby. Then the kiss: Soft like cotton, smooth as butter as his lips caught between yours. Your heart fluttered for just a split second when his imitating-self lowered his guard for just a moment. For you. No tensed muscles whilst your lips touched. Just softness until the cheering of Thomas’ family pulled you back, eyes darting across the room unable to focus as the shame engulfed you. You turned back to him, your eyes telling him that you hated all of his but his eyes only reminded you that you were now his. Forever until death do you part.

The party afterwards felt like a fever dream. Bright lights; loud music; lots of people you didn’t know; guards everywhere keeping an eye on you and everyone else; Thomas was smoking with his brothers, his eyes on you. But you didn’t notice. Fear started to creep into your conscience. Your breath caught in your chest as your head snapped in every direction possible.

This is too loud. Too many people. I’m going insane. I can’t go insane. I need to get out of here, I need to get out of here, I need to get fucking out of here.

A great sense of weariness swept over you, sucking your energy with it. You stumbled backwards into a waiter knocking off the drinks he was carrying. Your hands moved to his chest, whispering a small, ‘I’m so sorry.’ as your feet picked up pace and scurried into the house. Tears started to well in the rim of your eyes before they fell. Your heart was heavy. Your head full. You don’t know how long you rushed through the house until you came to a stop in the second living room that was facing away from the party.

You hunched yourself over the table. Your sobs were uncontrollable. The weeks at the Shelbys finally caught up with you.

Fuck Father. Fuck Thomas Shelby. Fuck Thomas Shelby.

‘Fuck!’ You screamed at the top of your lungs. Tears streaming down your face. Your hands found themselves grasping each and every item near you and flung them around the room. With one big swipe the multiple vases, table decor and a fruit bowl hit the ground. The sound of breaking glass filled the almost empty void, the bass of the music still pumping throughout the house.

The veil that masked the loneliness you felt the past weeks dropped. Keeping up the sarcastic character you played throughout the day was tiring. Each night you ended the day by drowning in your tears. Wet stains that covered your blanket that engulfed you like a wave that pulled you down to the bottom of the ocean. It was hard to pretend that this whole thing didn’t affect you.

More screams escaped your lips, from the continued pain that Thomas Shelby had caused you, to the multiple cuts on your hand that were the result of your breakdown. Red stained your hands, your face, hair, your wedding dress. A beautiful tragedy straight out of a Stephen King novel.

Your cries turned to whimpers, sadness overcame everything else.

What the fuck is happening to me?

‘Y/n,’ The voice of Thomas Shelby snapped you out of your thoughts. Your glossy eyes met his. It could’ve been a hallucination caused by the adrenalin high but a flicker of worry could be seen in Thomas’ face at the state of your appearance. ‘What the fuck happened?’

You felt a sting of melancholy and confusion. ‘What happened?’ You pulled your eyebrows together, clammy hands at your hips. ‘What the fuck happened? What the fuck happened, Thomas, was you!’ Your heart twisted. ‘This is all your fault.’

Thomas stepped further into the room. Upright posture, one eyebrow raised, dark eyes burning into you.

Could he just stop for a moment!

‘My fault?’ His hand smoothed over his lower face. ‘What do I have to do with the state of you?’

‘Because you wanted me.’ You yelled back. New tears welled in your eyes. ‘The reason I am like this is because you chose me.’

Your heels clicked against the marble floor. An arm-length apart from Thomas.

‘All your fault!’ You let out a cry like yell and started hitting Thomas. Your hits against his chest felt like a feather trying to break a stone wall. Weak.

He didn’t move. He didn’t step away or try to stop you. Thomas took it like he knew this was what he deserved.

‘Fucking fight back you asshole.’ The gloomy pit inside of you burst. ‘Fight back!’

‘Y/n, hey hey hey.’ His large hands wrapped themselves around your wrist, holding them tightly in the air to restrict your movements.

‘Let me go.’ The words strangled in your throat.

‘No.’

Weak pushes and pulls failed to get you out of his grasp as you tried to fight with every last burning hatred that slowly died out.

‘Let me go.’ A whisper that fell silent before you collapsed in his frame. His arms slinging around you for support as you both lowered yourself to the floor.

You felt tired.

A pair of strong arms wrapped themselves around your sunken frame and lifted you from the ground.

‘This is all your fault, Thomas Shelby. You made me like this.’

[yanderepuck]

Hey. Back again to talk about Dazais suicidal tendencies because he's one of my emotional support vampires.

So obvs tw for some suicide

If you're here I imagine you've read one or two of my Vincent posts. If not and you want angst. Go read them. They are on my masterlist.

About a week a month this man has a horrible depression episode, and sometimes goes beyond depression.

It's like when Isaac is sleep walking. They take turns watching him.

They also have to take turns making sure Dazai doesn't try to kill himself or do anything stupider than usual.

Leonardo: Dazai....what are you doing?

Dazai: *laying naked in a pile of snow in the middle of the night* trying to see if a vampire can die of hypothermia

Leonardo: *sighs* they can't. Come on *makes him get up and drags him into the mansion*

~~

IM SORRY BUT MY BRAIN FOUND THIS ONE FUNNY

Dazai: eating paint can kill you right?

Vincent: what? I mean...I guess.

Dazai: but didn't you eat paint to poison yourself?

Vincent: Dazai.... I shot myself

Dazai: huh. Do you think eating paint could kill a vampire?

Vincent: ......one way to find out

That's real reason why we don't get Vincent and Dazai interactions

Arthur: *trying to be therapist* how does that make you feel?

Dazai: *sitting upside down on a couch* *mocks him* how does it feel to have my foot up your ass

Arthur: *writes something down*

Dazai: WILL YOU STOP WRITING

Arthur: ......I sense that you're upset

Dazai: *screams*

Okay. Wait. Why is Arthur trying to be a therapist hilarious.

Dazai: I'm suicidal! There's nothing more!

Arthur: but do you have a plan?

Dazai: what does that even mean, Do yOu HAvE A plAn? I know how to kill myself!

Arthur: wrong. You know how to kill a human.

Dazai: *new objective: figure out how to kill a lesser vampire*

Arthur: wait...Dazai. what are you thinking about

Dazai: I have a new goal. I'm.hoping it's short term *gets up and leaves*

Arthur: .....I think I fucked up

Dazai doesn't really go out of his way to try to die, but if something ends up happening then he wouldn't be upset about it.

Comte: Dazai sure is determined to do something lately

Arthur: uhhh yeah *thinks he knows what*

Dazai climbing up to the roof and it's the middle of the night and Theo is yelling at him like a concerned mom to get down from there. You can hear Mozart playing music. And Dazai is like "this isn't very good "plunging to you're death" kind of music" so he comes down.

GOES INTO THE MUSIC ROOM AND REQUESTS A SONG AND GOES BACK UP TO THE ROOF.

It's not funny but it is bc it's on brand.

Theo is on the ground freaking out. If he jumps he's just going to have to try to catch him, which hell probably break a few bones in the process.

So Theo uses the only card he's got and goes "IF YOU GET HURT WHOS GOING TO WATCH BUNTA? NOT ME! I HATE BIRDS!"

And Dazai is like *gasp* BUNTA and comes back down and goes back to his room to check on Bunta.

Theo ran inside to check on him.

Bunta is jumping around on the floor, making tapping noises and is happy, which makes Dazai happy and makes Theo relieved.

Rip Theo. He has a hard enough time trying to watch Vincent.

So every time Dazai is getting really bad they are like "but Bunta!"

And Dazai is like " :O omg Bunta!"

[queenshelby]

The Policeman’s Daughter – Part Three

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Reader

Warning: Mention of Assault and Sexual Abuse, Mention of Suicide, Murder, Fluff, Slow Burn Smut, Drugs

Words: 5,245

Please comment, like, engage if you like it xo 😘

Shelby Company Limited, Birmingham, 17 September 1924

At around 10 o’clock that day, Tommy had a meeting with Moss, Michael and Arthur at his office in order to ensure that the plan he had hatched in the previous two days came to fruition.

‘So, we are all good for the rallies this evening?’ Tommy asked as Moss, Michael and Arthur sat down with him in the conference room.

‘All this for a fucking woman, eh?’ Arthur asked, causing Tommy to chuckle. Of course, he had more than one motive for organising extensive rallies across Birmingham. Sure, he wanted to see you but he also needed to get a shipment of cocaine out of the city unnoticed.

‘The rallies are going ahead as planned. All but three policemen will be dispatched and busy breaking up the fights’ Moss explained before handing Tommy a list of names of policemen who had recently joined the force.

‘All but three, eh?’ Tommy asked surprised, causing Moss to nod. ‘Are you sure that this list complete?’ Tommy then went on to ask, noticing that none of the men on the list carried the same surname as you.

Moss nodded again before breaking some more news to Tommy.

‘Three of the men have been called into London, investigating a few killings. You may have heard in the news this morning that a High Court Judge had been killed last night’ Moss explained.

‘I’ve heard’ Tommy said before taking a short pause while reading over the list again. ‘Can you tell me who the three men are’ Tommy then went on to say while pointing at the list. In his mind, it was unusual for local coppers to be called to a different district and the killing of the judge was going to be a high-profile case, unsuitable for most small-town policemen to investigate.

Moss was quick to highlight the three names for Tommy before taking his payment and leaving the office just as requested by Tommy.

‘I need you to find out about these three men. Where they have transferred from and why they are here. Get me their addresses and see if they have any skeletons in their closet, eh’ Tommy said, handing the list to Michael.

‘Why?’ Michael asked, unsure about Tommy’s motives.

‘If these men investigate a murder of a judge in London, they aren’t just coppers’ Tommy explained before confirming with Arthur that he has dealt with the security guards at your property.

‘Blackmailed them and paid them Tommy. Just as you ordered’ Arthur confirmed and it was at this point that Tommy called the end of the meeting, allowing Michael and Arthur to get on with their business.

Just as Arthur and Michael left the office, Tommy’s secretary Lizzie walked inside, asking Tommy to sign off on some of the paperwork she had prepared for Shelby Company Limited.

Without acknowledging her, Tommy read the paperwork and signed it. As usual, his thoughts were elsewhere and it wasn’t until Lizzie asked him about his plans for the evening that he acknowledged her.

‘Would you like me to stay back this evening Tommy?’ Lizzie asked while she seductively ran her hand over one of his upper thighs all the way towards his crotch.

‘I’ve got plans this evening Lizzie’ Tommy quickly responded, removing her hand from his thigh while signing the last piece of paper she had given him.

‘It’s been a while since we’ve fucked’ Lizzie then said, looking at Tommy with her dark eyes.

‘It has’ was all he responded with before clearing his throat and getting on with business matters.

Your Residence, Birmingham, 17 September 1924

Meanwhile, earlier that day, your father had told you that he had business to attend to in London. As usual, he didn’t tell you what this business was about but you expected that it had to do with the killing of the high court judge and the three men who, several years ago, caused you so much pain and suffering.

Your father seemed pleased about their killing when he called in at 10 o’clock that morning, asking you whether you had read the paper. Nonetheless, there would be an investigation and, knowing your father, you knew that he was desperate to know as to who did the killing and, more importantly, why.

When you asked him when he would return, he advised you that he wouldn’t be back until Sunday afternoon and you couldn’t help but chuckle before wishing him safe travels.

At around 7 o’clock that evening, you had a quick bath before picking out your clothes for the evening. You were excited to see Tommy again. But you were also slightly nervous, knowing that you might be spending the night with him.

You had only ever been with one man who was nothing but cruel to you in the end. Intimacy didn’t come naturally to you ever since the night you were hurt and abused.

But you knew that you had to get over all this eventually and, for some reason, you desired Tommy like you never desired any man before. There was something about him that not only made you feel at ease but also attractive and worthy.

He had an aura about him which no one had ever matched and, deep down inside, you knew that you both shared struggles no one else could comprehend.

When you told him about the night your life changed for the worse and your thoughts about ending your own suffering many times in the past, he told you that he understood how you felt.

He told you about France, he told you about the death of his wife and how, on many occasions, he didn’t think it was worth it to carry on like this.

But, he had a son he loved and cared for and assured you that, one day, you would have someone who makes life worth living for.

Of course, you wanted him to be right and, until then, you were determined to try and enjoy life and indulge on what was at offer.

‘Fear nothing Love. Everything after is extra’ was what Tommy had said to you when you told him that you had nearly died that night. And he was right, everything after was extra.

With these thoughts running through your mind, you slipped on some nice lingerie, a nice dress and applied a generous amount of make-up.

At exactly 8 o’clock, you heard a car pull up in front of the property and you looked around for the guards who, miraculously, had disappeared.

You quickly put on your coat, grabbed your handbag and walked outside into the cold autumn air.  Without second thoughts, you walked to Tommy’s car and, as soon as you opened the door and sat down in the passenger seat, he pulled you close for a kiss. You didn’t even get a chance to greet him before his lips were firmly connected to yours.  

His lips were warm and soft, just as you remembered and you immediately parted your lips, allowing his tongue to enter and explore. His hands were caressing your face as he kissed you for what felt like an eternity.

‘You look beautiful’ he eventually said, quickly gazing over you after your lips drifted apart before putting the car into gear and driving off.

‘How did you know that my father would be going to London?’ you then asked without worrying about where Tommy was taking you.

Without answering your question immediately, Tommy swallowed harshly, realising that your father must be one of the men he asked Michael to research which, yet again, would pose another hurdle for him and you.

‘I didn’t know that he was going to London but I did know about some rallies in Birmingham tonight, keeping all the coppers busy. I was certain that he would have to work’ Tommy explained before asking you for your father’s name.

‘It’s James and he will be in London all weekend’ you smirked, causing Tommy chuckle.

‘All weekend, eh?’ Tommy said while realising that none of the three men on Moss’s list who were travelling to London were named James.

‘Are you alright Tommy?’ you then went on to ask as you became to notice how quiet Tommy had gotten after you told him about your father.

‘Yes Love, there is just some business on my mind’ Tommy explained before changing the topic.

‘Since your father is gone for a while longer than I had expected, how would you like to spend the weekend with me at my house?’ Tommy then went on to ask before realising that this might make you uncomfortable after what you had told him the last time you saw each other and, before you could answer, he qualified his proposal. ‘Separate bedrooms of course and you are free to leave whenever you choose’ he added quickly, taking your hand and running over it gently while trying to concentrate on the road.

‘I would love that Tommy’ you answered equally quick while your hand searched for his thigh.

Tommy’s Residence, Birmingham, 17 September 1924

After a thirty-minute drive filled with interesting conversations, you finally arrived at Tommy’s house and, when he pulled up in the driveway, you were speechless.  

‘How many people do live here exactly?’ you asked while looking at the large mansion.

‘Just me, my son Charles and some maids’ Tommy said as he parked the car and before walking around it, opening the door for you like a gentleman.

‘Right’ you said, clearly lost for words.

‘Common. It’s warmer inside’ Tommy said with a warm smile as he reached for your hand.

As soon as you walked into the door, you were greeted by one of the maids who took your coat and provided Tommy with a list of messages received via phone during the day.

Tommy quickly skimmed over the list and decided that he had to make a quick phone call before he would join you in the reading room.

You were impressed by the decoration in the house, looking around and into each and every direction while Tommy’s maid Francis walked you to the reading room.

‘Miss, would you like a glass of wine, or champaign perhaps?’ Francis then asked and you quickly shook your head, thanking her for her offer.

From the reading room, you could hear Tommy talking to someone in quite a firm tone and you began to wonder how he came into possession of such wealth and position of power as a gypsy.

While you waited for Tommy to return, you walked around the reading room, looking at the books and artwork and, just as you did, a young boy walked inside wearing pyjamas.

‘Hey, you must be Charles’ you said with a friendly voice and the boy nodded shyly.

‘Are you one of the new maids?’ Charlie asked and you quickly shook your head just as Francis walked in behind him.

‘No running away, remember’ Francis said and, just as she did, Tommy finished his phone call and quickly gave Charlie a hug before telling him that it was time to go to bed.

You said goodbye to Charlie and couldn’t help but marvel about the fact that he looked just like Tommy.

‘You are very lucky. He is a beautiful young boy’ you said just after Francis carried Charlie to bed.

‘I am sure you will be just as lucky one day, eh’ Tommy said before pouring you glass of whiskey which you chose to decline.

‘I cannot have children’ you explained, holding your stomach momentarily and, immediately, Tommy sat down next to you and took you into his arms.

‘I am sorry’ he said quietly as you leaned against his shoulder.

‘It’s alright. I made peace with it a long time ago’ you said, still glancing around to take in the artwork and décor.

‘Now, tell me, what is it that you do’ you said, looking into his deep blue eyes.

‘Lots of things’ Tommy responded before pressing his lips onto yours.

‘Lots of things? Right’ you giggled before asking Tommy how he managed to get the security guards your father had employed to turn a blind eye on you leaving that evening and not returning to your home until Sunday.

‘I paid them a substantial amount of money’ Tommy said bluntly.

‘You paid them?’ you asked with surprise and Tommy nodded. ‘Yes, I paid them. Like most things these days, their loyalty was for sale’ Tommy said with a cheeky smile.

‘You know, it seems to me that everyone does what you tell them to do’ you then said, biting your lip as you did.

‘Perhaps’ Tommy then said with a chuckle before causing you to lean against him.

As you did, you could his heart pound and smell the scent of his aftershave. It was divine and you couldn’t help but wrap your arms around him tightly.

As you held each other close, Tommy gently kissed the top of your head causing you to feel relaxed a little more.

‘Did you want to get some rest? I had Francis prepare one of the guest rooms for you’ Tommy said as he noticed how quiet you had gotten. But the truth was, you simply enjoyed his closeness, his smell and listening to the sound of his beating heart.

‘No Tommy. I also don’t want to stay in the guestroom’ you said shyly but with a slight smirk on your face as you looked up into his deep blue eyes.

‘Where do you want to stay then, eh?’ Tommy smirked, his voice low and gentle, as his hand was slowly feeling down your side, causing your heart to skip a beat when his fingertips brushed against the side of your breast.

‘I thought I could stay in your bedroom…with you’ you said shyly as your eyes met again and he smiled warmly at you, as if he was assuring you that he wouldn’t do anything you didn’t want him to do.

‘I think that could be arranged’ Tommy said before kissing you gently as his fingers continued to traverse your body, slowly walking onto your thigh.

You watched his hand intently after you lips parted from his, feeling frozen like a doe in the headlights but still safe and secure somehow.

You knew that he would stop if you asked him to, so there was no harm in enjoying the pleasant sensations.

You scooted a little closer to him, looking into his eyes with your head on his shoulder and smiling up at him. He had such amazing eyes. And hands. One of which slowly smoothed down your thigh ever so gently.

Your breath caught in your throat as those fingers delicately brushed up your inner thigh and you lifted your head to say something, but you didn’t know what. Your body begged him continue but your mind fought it.

He whispered softly, his lips brushing against your ear and his warm breath causing little goose bumps on your neck. ‘If you would like me to stop, let me know’ he said and your lips quivered as you tried to make a decision.

Logic was fighting a losing battle against libido. You had never been touched this way, not even by yourself and the man you had been with in the past was far from being gentle.

Your internal monologue was shattered when he finally reached beneath your skirt slowly and gently. You leaned into him and buried your face in his neck to stifle a whimper as two more fingers joined the first, casually stroking your through your panties. He smelled wonderful too.

Your body moved seemly with a mind of its own as your hips rising gently with each soft caress of those wonderful fingers. His other hand joined in, his fingertips caressing your cheek and playing across your neck. You couldn’t focus on anything more complicated than that thanks to the stimulation down below and the warmth of his fingers moving along the V of your blouse.

You quivered with desire from his manipulation, one hand now running over your breast and the other dipping his fingers just feeling along the edge of your panties. You looked up at him as he leaned towards you, his lips slowly moving towards yours but teasingly sliding along your cheek instead to whisper in your ear again.

‘Would you like to continue this in my bedroom?’ Tommy asked and you mumbled something in the affirmative.

Tommy smiled at your shyness and took your hand and helped you to your feet. You held onto him for support, your legs still shaky from the experience. He gallantly gave you his arm and you held onto it as you left the reading room and made your way upstairs to Tommy’s bedroom.

When you arrived in his bedroom, Tommy guided you all the way to the front of his large bed which is where he stood before you, reaching out to gently caress your cheek.

You smiled softly and looked at him through half-closed eyes, leaning your face against his hand slightly.

‘I am nervous Tommy’ you shuddered.

‘We don’t have to do anything Y/N’ Tommy said reassuringly.

‘I want to. I just don’t know if I am ready to go all the way…you know’ you said nervously, biting your lip again as you did.

‘We won’t. Just let me make you feel good, eh’ Tommy said gently as he winked at you and you literally had no idea what he meant by that, but nodded anyway.

Tommy then trailed his fingertips down your arm before he kissed you again gently. But this time, his lips moved from yours to your shoulder and neck in no time. You felt yourself start to tremble again. You couldn’t think. You couldn’t move. You could barely breathe. All your being was focused on Tommy and you wanted him so badly.

He looked into your eyes with his piercing gaze, placing his hands on your shoulders, whispering softly with his lips almost touching yours.

‘Turn around’ he said and you complied with his request. His hands moved your hair out of the way gently before his lips started to kiss the back of your neck all while his hands started to unzip your dress.

Your dress fell to the floor almost instantly and you stepped out of it slowly before turning around to face Tommy.

You covered your stomach with your hands, covering up your scar as you stood in front of Tommy nervously. Tommy smiled at the sight before him, drawing another blush from you as he traced his finger down the strap and along the edge of the material of your bra, gliding lightly over the gentle swell of your breast.

You stiffened again at feeling a warm gentle touch where you hadn’t let anyone touch you for a long time, but forced yourself to relax and enjoy it.

Tommy then moved your hands away from your stomach gently. ‘Don’t hide it. You are beautiful and I want to see all of you’ Tommy whispered as he traced his finger up your cleavage slowly, drawing a line up along your neck and across your jaw to your chin, tipping your face up to meet his gaze.

He then leaned down and made your head spin by flicking the tip of his tongue along your cleavage. You shuddered and moaned softly, holding onto his shoulders as your knees wobbled under you. You tangled your fingers in his hair as his lips and tongue teased your skin, eventually wrapping around one strap and slowly pulling it down your shoulder, then doing the same to the other. Unsure of how to react but filled with desire, you kissed and nibbled at his neck as he had done with you. He tasted good too. His fingers flicked briefly behind your back and you felt your bra clasp fall open. You let the bra fall and felt your cheeks flush slightly as your breasts were revealed, almost covering them with your hands before remembering what Tommy had told you.

‘Lie down Love’ he then instructed while he took off his vest and shirt, leaving him wearing nothing but his black suit pants.

After he got partially undressed, he joined you on the large bed and, yet again, guided your hands away from covering yourself up and kissed you passionately. You wrapped your arms around his neck and your nervous giggle turned into an elated sigh as he pulled away and, almost suddenly began to trail kisses down your chest and breasts. Your sigh then turned into a moan when his tongue slowly flicked your nipple before mimicked the circular motions of his fingers with his tongue. Your fingers tangled in his hair, your head fell back, your eyes fluttered as he made you feel alive.

You whimpered softly as his lips wrapped around your nipple, tenderly sucking on it and lashing at it with his tongue, fondling your other breast with one hand as the other smoothed down your belly. Following his lead, you felt down his body to find his belt buckle, keeping one arm wrapped around him for fear that you might faint. But, his hand covered yours quickly and placed it back on his shoulder, causing you to eye him curiously.

‘Tonight is about you Love’ Tommy said with a grin and you gasped as he caressed his way down to your hips, softly kissing down your belly. Was he going to kiss you there too you wondered as you watched his progression intently.

You arched your body against his lips as they softly pressed against your belly button and Tommy shifted his hands to brush against your inner thighs, smiling up at you as your body reacted to his touch. He then slipped his fingers under the edge of your panties and pulled them down slowly, letting his touch linger on your long legs. She blushed profusely as you lay there beneath him completely naked, the night air teasing all your sensitive spots.

His hands slowly moved up your legs, gently caressing your thighs before parting them gently.

He traversed your body with agonizing slowness and you tensed as he kissed the inside of your thighs.

He wasn’t really going to kiss you there, was he? You blushed even more and whimpered softly with desire as Tommy traced little circles with his tongue slowly towards your centre until, finally, his face hovered between your legs, pausing to enjoy your arousal.

‘Is it alright if I kiss you there?’ Tommy asked, looking up at you as you twitched at the feather light touch of his lips followed by the hot air of his breath.

‘Are you serious?’ you forced out with a moan.

‘Yeah’ Tommy said with a low voice and you shyly nodded, thinking it was a strange request until, suddenly, his lips touched your wet mound.

‘Oh Jesus’ you moaned at the sensation as he placed gently small kisses over your mound but your moan soon turned into scream of pleasure when, suddenly, Tommy darted his tongue and licked through your slit.

His teasing had already brought you to the brink and you felt like you would explode. What was this feeling, you wondered? It was new and unfamiliar to you.

You inhaled sharply at the pleasure coursing through you as Tommy’s warm tongue traced slowly up your slit and then slowly back down. Your fingers tangled in his hair and you pressed his face between your legs, your whole body seemingly on fire as he licked up and down, moving a little deeper inside you with each pass. He used his soft lips to tenderly nibble on your folds, triggering another incoherent outburst of encouragement. Then he ever so gently pressed his lips to your clit.

Your entire body writhed with pleasure from his touch, fireworks going off in your mind. Slowly Tommy smoothed his tongue over your clit, back and forth, up and down. You moaned loudly, all thoughts gone from your mind save for his tongue. He then caressed your thigh briefly and brought his hand to your slit, where he began to gently glide his finger in and out of you. By this point you let go of his hair and dug your nails into the sheets, shuddering as his finger moved within you. Then he added a second finger and your moans became even louder as he stroked a special spot on each pass, lighting up all of your senses.

‘Oh my god Tommy’ you moaned loudly as, finally, you began to experience your first orgasm, convulsing as the pleasure washed through your like a wildfire.

You were a shaking mess after as little as ten minutes of Tommy pleasuring you with his tongue and finger, crying and whimpering for him. Screaming his name for all the maids in the house to hear.

After you finally came down from your high, Tommy gently withdrew his tongue and fingers from you and rose, kissing his way back up your body gently.

You wrapped your arms tight around him, nuzzling his neck as your body quivered from your experience.

‘You taste fucking amazing Love’ he then grinned, clearly satisfied by what he had just achieved.

‘Really?’ you chuckled, still surprised by his actions. You didn’t realise that anyone does things like that, kissing and licking intimate places like this.

‘Yeah, really’ Tommy smirked before he kissed you again, gently but yet passionately and, as he did, you could taste your juices on his tongue and on his lips.

‘See’ Tommy smirked after your lips had parted and you couldn’t help but giggle.

‘Now can I taste you?’ you asked as you slipped your hand over his crotch, feeling how hard he was, straining against his pants.

‘There is no need Love. I can wait’ Tommy said reassuringly, not wanting to push you farther than you were really prepared to go. It was also obvious to him that you had never done this before.

‘Please’ you then said shyly, raising up over him slightly and he nodded, giving you permission to proceed with whatever you are comfortable with.

You began to place little sucking kisses on his neck, then on his shoulders. Then you began to kiss down his chest, occasionally adding a little lick here and there just as he had done with you. Tommy smiled down at you as your fingers and tongue slowly walked down his body.

Your hands were trembling with anticipation as you unbuckled and unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. Then you pulled his pants down along with his briefs and freed his cock. His erection stood proud before you, begging to be touched.

Tommy let out a quiet moan as you reached out and gingerly brushed your fingertip along the head, feeling it respond to your touch. You then began to gently stroke up and down his shaft, watching his expressions to try to find what he liked best. You slipped your finger between your lips briefly to wet it, then drew circles around the head before bringing your mouth down towards his hard member.

Experimentally you extended your tongue and brushed it against the tip, smiling as Tommy let out a sexy growl of approval. You began to circle the head with your tongue, smiling up at him each time you made him twitch or moan. Then you closed your lips around the head of his shaft, hungrily lapping and sucking.

‘That’s it Love, fuck’ Tommy moaned while brushing his hands gently through your hair. He seemed to like this best of all, judging by his growls.

You soon began to taste small amounts of precum which had escaped from his shaft and you were savouring the taste and texture and the pleasure you were giving him.

‘Come up here Love. I am close’ Tommy barely managed to force out after you bobbed your head up and down his shaft for the past ten minutes, your lips closing and sucking around him firmly while your tongue explored every inch of his hardness.

‘Cum in my mouth Tommy’ you demanded while disconnecting your lips briefly, causing Tommy to growl even louder.

‘Fuck’ Tommy growled within seconds, causing you to smile all while you could feel his shaft pulsate inside your mouth.

Then, another few seconds later, he bucked his hips slightly and involuntarily, while, with one loud groan, he began to fill your mouth with his sweet and warm cum.

Another curse word soon escaped him as he let rope after rope of his warm seed flow into you and you were quite surprised by how much there was of it.

After you collected at all in your mouth and Tommy slowly began to come down from his high, you looked up at him with your eyes full of questions.

Unsure about what to do, you swallowed, causing Tommy to groan again briefly as he watched. Quite obviously, it turned him and you were quite satisfied being able to pleasure him the same way he pleasured you.

‘Come here, eh’ Tommy then ordered with a gentle voice and crawled back up on his body and leaned your head against his chest, listening to his still somewhat racing heart.

‘So, people do that kind of stuff’ you huffed out with shy but cute giggle.

‘Yeah’ Tommy chuckled, adoring your shyness in sweetness.

Tommy’s Residence, Birmingham, 18 September 1924

After having explored your sexual desires with Tommy and some more gentle intimacy and pillow talk, you eventually managed to fall asleep at around 11 o’clock with your body pressed firmly against Tommy’s.

Together, you only needed about half the bed as your bodies were intermingled with each other and you loved feeling his closeness.

But, unfortunately for you, it was around 4 o’clock in the morning that yet another one of your nightmares ripped through you, causing you to kick and scream in your sleep.

Your nightmares always felt real, causing you to wake in a state of panic and anxiety.

Just as your dream was worsening and you let out a loud cry, you could hear Tommy’s voice, calm and deep.

‘Y/N, shhh, it’s alright’ you heard Tommy say gently, his hands running through your hair as he held you close just as you woke from your nightmare.

‘It’s just a dream. You are safe, eh’ he said as he held onto you, realising that you were close to having a panic attack.

‘Tommy’ you said with a small cry as your breathing was easing almost immediately.

‘I am here. It was just a dream’ he said again calmly and reassuring before kissing your forehead.

‘I am sorry Tommy. I must have woken you’ you said, looking at him through the dim light of the small lamp which Tommy had left on upon your request.

‘No Love, I have trouble sleeping and I get those too, the nightmares’ Tommy then said as you rested back against him but this time with your eyes wide open.

‘Do you want to go for a walk?’ you then went to ask after a few minutes of silence.

‘Yeah, common. I know just the place, eh’ Tommy suggested with a warm smile and off you went into the cold spring night.

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[neoncrowpen]

Hey Crow, can you write male reader as Tommy's younger brother again? Maybe something which revolves around Tommy being abusive and harsh? He'd slap his brother, yell at him, pull him after himself if he's in a hurry, etc. And Ada's not around to step up for him or keep Tommy at bay since they're not in London. And the rest of the brothers don't do anything about it. It doesn't necessarily have to be another part to the story where Tommy and Arthur cut him for speaking with the police, take it wherever you'd like. I just really enjoy your portrayal of him when he's like that. Angry, scary. Dangerous. Maybe he likes taking out his anger on reader because he reminds him himself before the war? Or maybe he has no reason.

(This imagine is a continuation. Read Part One Here.)

Author Warning: Contains mentions of suicide, physical sibling abuse, and death threats. Tread lightly, friends.

Thomas dragged you by your shirt collar into his office. He threw you forward, making you lose a few steps. You heard the slam of the door behind you. You flinched hard, but kept your composure.

“How many times am I going to have to teach you the same lesson, Y/N? People talk.” Thomas said. He was too calm for your liking. His targeted glare on you waited for the right answer. You knew what the right answer was. However, the right answer and the right thing to do were two very different things.

“I’m not going to apologize—

“I’m not looking for an apology. Or an explanation.” Thomas explained. He took a step towards you. “You see, I’m done explaining how things work to you. And Ada’s not here.” In the privacy of his office, Thomas kicked you into his chair. The chair toppled, making you fall sideways. You landed on your hands. Thomas rested his foot on the side of your face. He pressed down, limiting himself. Your cheek felt the burn of his plush carpet.

Your breath shuddered. “Ada knows men in the government. They can come after you.”

“You think Ada is more powerful than me? Are you that stupid?” Thomas increased the weight on his foot. You groaned as he pressed your face into the carpet more. You could smell where the whisky spilled in the fibers. “Give me their names, Y/N.”

“No—

Thomas swiftly kicked you in your gut. It took all air out of you, all agency, so when Thomas pulled you up by your hair and threw you forward again, you had no chance of catching yourself. Your body crashed into the small bar cart. Glass shattered in your right hand. Thomas took your wrist and slammed the injured hand onto the top of his desk. The glass shards cut deeper into your hand. You cried out in so much pain, you felt your gag reflex triggered.

“Did you see what you’re doing this to our family?” Thomas slammed your hand onto the desk again and again. Every time he listed off another time. He sent another shock of pain into your hand. “You selfish bastard. Every time you talk to one of Ada’s friends, or your American friends, or the police this is what you’re doing to all of us.” He let you go. Your breath shuddered as you bravely looked at your hand.

It was covered in so much red that your own skin tone couldn’t be seen through it. The pain seared through you so much, you wondered if you were ever going to feel anything or use this hand ever again. You gritted your teeth through the pain.

“So, go ahead. Keep talking. Soon enough, you’ll be the only Shelby left and we’ll all be rotting in graves. You’ll be all alone. The last Shelby.”

“I’m not scared of being alone,” you said, standing up to him. “You are.” Thomas froze in front of you. A switch flipped in his eyes. In seconds, he pushed you into the wall. Fear kept any normal reaction stuck inside your throat. The cold metal of Thomas’ gun brushed the inside of your ear, and every bone in your spine rattled.

“I will break you. I will take you apart brick by brick until you are hopeless enough to contemplate suicide. And when you do, I will shoot you down like we do with broken horses, and then everyone will be at peace again. Do you hear me? No one will know peace until you are shot through your fucking ears.”

Thomas lowered his gun. He turned away from you. Your eyes darted towards the door but then quickly back to him. Thomas sat in his chair comfortably.

“I’m not going to kill you today, Y/N. Go back to Ada.”

You sprinted out of his house and towards the car. Driving away would be difficult, but you were still breathing. As long as you could breathe, you could get away from him. As you jumped into the car, you pulled at your tie. You wrapped it around your hand, wincing in pain. It wasn’t perfect, but it had to do. Your car skidded onto the road. You muttered a prayer to God, something you hadn’t done in years, thanking him for watching over you.

[lyallblacklupin]

Just like fire.

After years of regrets and sorrows, Remus tries to apologize to Sirius for his own mistakes, despite the fact that he has been hurt by the very same person who he wants to say sorry to. The years of damages has passed, should they give each other a chance, or start fresh with new people in life to forget their old wounds?

Tags: Heavy Angst, Fluff, Post-Azkaban, Angst with Happy Ending.

Sirius walks in the kitchen, completely heedless of Remus’ presence—or he pretends to be heedless after he catches the sight of Remus. He walks promptly, not limping but flinching at his aching bones. This is how Sirius Black has become: broken. And he has not just broken out of thin air, it has taken fourteen years which includes the twelve years of unjust imprisonment and two years of being a prison escapee, and Merlin knows how many more to go.

Half of Sirius’ time is spent in thinking about death and longing for it. Remus can tell because he has witnessed the hunger of dying in his eyes when he’d sit alone with himself, and the other half is always occupied in worrying about Harry Potter who is last person keeping him from dying out of misery; his dear godson only. Otherwise, he’d have been free.

He stops at the stove and boils the water on the kettle. He doesn’t have his wand so muggle way it is. Muggles have been growing on him, a lot. He keeps talking about them with Arthur. Remus is glad that if there is anything Sirius is looking forward to the order meetings is for the conversation with his new friend Arthur Weasley, who also attains the equal amount energy for the same subject. It makes Remus happy to witness that they have any reason to—even temporarily—lit up in the times of war. However, Sirius never smiles. He nods, or makes a funny face. He only smiles when Harry visits.

“If you want for yourself, it’s still in the kettle.” Sirius says without looking, and begins to walk out of the kitchen but Remus rises from his chair.

“Sirius.” He stops but doesn’t turn to face Remus.

“What?” His voice cut through Remus’ heart.

“I was hoping we could have tea together?” He tried, his heart hammering in his chest.

Sirius finally turns and hold his gaze. After a lingering eye contact, he nods and brings Remus’ tea with pink mug that has a David Bowie on it. He is slightly hopeful that Sirius has kept it because Remus gave him on their sixth year Christmas holidays. But he highly doubts that Sirius remembers it. Sirius sits across Remus’ seat. The silence is irksome.

“I want you to know that I’m sorry for…all that—“

“Define ‘that’, Remus?” Sirius’ facial expressions are blank but very grave.

“For believing the murder of Lily and James was because of you.”

Sirius scoffs, and Remus wants to scream because deep down inside he doesn’t feel he deserves it. He suffered too for twelve years. Even so, he tries to sustain the ceasefire he is trying to build between them.

“I should have believed that you would never have done anything like that to the Potters. You loved them more than anything in this world and—“

Remus pauses because Sirius is shaking his head with a manic smile playing on his lips.

“Wrong. I didn’t love them as I was supposed to. It wasn’t that I didn’t, but it was more like I couldn’t. My fucking stupid heart belonged to just one person that time as if my life would end if I stop centering my life on him.”

Remus swallowed. He knows that no kind of eloquent words are going to be good reply to what Sirius has said, so he says, “You did. Love them, that is. I know that.”

“Oh what did you know!?” He shoots up so violently that the chair collapses down on the floor that Remus inhales sharply, “You were out there kissing Dumbledore’s shoes!”

He knew that this will happen, that he will be humiliated again just like the times in the first war when Sirius would scream at him for going on the secret missions and not giving a clue about when and where he would go and come back, and for not being there for his friends and family. But in reality, all Remus did was to protect the order, and the people he loved. However, the questions still pops in his head, ‘for what? How did he not see it that they were breaking apart?’ It feels like he was watering a dead plant over and over again during the severity of lacking water, but the plant didn’t revive, and the precious water spilled into filthiest vain. Despite of that, Remus shuts his mind and chooses that pettiest way to get back at the person who endured twelve years of imprisonment for the crime he never committed.

“Don’t you dare!” Remus rises from his chair too, leveling up at Sirius, “Don’t you dare go down there again after all these years!”

“WHY NOT!?” Sirius yelled anyway, “YOU SHOULD LISTEN TO THIS NOW! YOU NEVER BELIEVED ME! EVEN BEFORE YOU THOUGHT I BETRAYED JAMES AND LILY!”

“WHEN DID YOU BELIEVE ME!?” Remus is now few inches away from Sirius. He wants to slam him against the wall and put some sense into him because he still cares about him, no matter what.

“WHAT!? You made me this way! You build this mistrust with your hands! Don’t you dare forget that!”

“I did!? Or was that you!? Who didn’t believe me when I said I was not allowed to tell to anyone!”

“I WAS NOT SUPPOSED TO BE ANYONE!” Sirius’ voice breaks poorly that hits like a dagger in Remus’ heart. Sirius holds himself by the chest and leans down to rest his torso on the kitchen table, breathing heavily. Remus instantly feels the stinging in his eyes, and followed by the hot tears spilling from them. He comes behind Sirius, and places a hand on his back.

“Don’t touch me.”

“Shut up. Just shut up.” Remus whispers, and pulls Sirius up in his arms. He sobs and sobs, and Remus sinks down to the floor with him, squeezing him tightly in his embrace. “You are right. You were never just anyone. You were never…” He tries to put his feelings into words but Sirius interrupts him.

“You stopped loving me.”

Remus feels his stomach twist but what comes out of his mouth is a laugh. An empty laugh.

“Hell, I didn’t even stop loving you even when I thought you killed James and Lily.”

Silence.

“I was disgusted by myself. I used to feel so filthy. To want you even after believing you ruined my life by walking away so brutally, killing my friends. Killing my reasons to stay on this planet. I wanted to hate you. I couldn’t. I didn’t think that I even deserved to go to their funeral, you know…because I thought I’d be downright hypocrite to grieve for their loss when I was actually grieving the loss of you. I’d dream about you. The only thought keeping me sane and alive. Sirius, I’m not sure if this makes sense to you…I don’t even know if I’m asking you to love me back or what, but I have always loved you, mostly when I shouldn’t…”

Sirius is staring at him with his tears streaming so rapidly down his cheeks. He is trembling as sobs are racking through his body, his breath hitching every now and then. Remus’ heart breaks to see him like that. It is like Sirius is cleansing himself with all of the unwanted darkness off his soul by spilling all the expanse of pain in form of tears. Remus can see that he is not stopping himself from weeping. He seems lost somewhere, with his eyes shut and his hand on his mouth.

“I am not defending myself,” Remus whispers once he notices Sirius is just sniffling and wiping the dampness from his face, “I never meant to bring that up. I just want to let you know that whatever you went through had not even a single place or moment you deserved to be at.”

Sirius looks up with wide teary eyes, staring at Remus’ hopefully. He looks innocent and raw.

“Tell me,” His voice rough with tears but still a whisper. He clears his throat, “that I deserved all of that.”

“That is not true.” Remus says instantly, his hands grasping Sirius’ wrist instinctively, fearing he might fade away with the wind swooping in from the kitchen window.

“It is,” He says in the weakest voice, “My mistakes brought me here. For not trusting you enough…”

No words comes out from Remus’ mouth but they are caught in his throat like a lump. He can feel their prickling. The silence stretches on, smoothly breaking by the sounds of fire battling the wind filling the kitchen. There is also some faint sounds of dripping water from the tap into the basin. Someone must have forgotten to turn it fully. Huh, wizards.

“You are one celestial presence on the world, Remus Lupin, aren’t you…” Sirius chuckles softly, leaning back on the paddles of the chair to rest his back on them. Remus doesn’t understand but Sirius continues, “You are…this sacred or a saint-like wizard—half-blood werewolf whose father committed suicide because he thought he was the reason for his son’s affliction, and whose mother faded away with grief…”

Remus’ heart feels fragile in his chest, fearing it might break again after the poor mending.

“Merlin puts a very heavy price on people to pay who hurt Remus Lupin, who mistrust Remus Lupin...who thinks little of Remus Lupin.”

There is something strange in Sirius’ eyes. There is surrender and envy but Remus stares back into those glistening, and almost-silver orbs with courage to find what he wants. And he does. There it is. Love, swirling into the diffusion of grey and blue.

“I paid twelve years of losing myself and my family for mistrusting you, Remus.”

“I’m sorry…” He doesn’t expect his voice to whimper but it does because his chin is trembling and he is trying hard to gain composure. He is trying so hard with his clenched jaw, and balled fists in either sides of his lap. But Sirius put a thumb under his chin, and he shudders.

“You’re so stupid, Moony.” Sirius whispers when he is just an inch away from his lips.

“I know,” And just as those lips touched his, he feels a tear trickle down his cheek before Sirius has completely captured his mouth. They move languidly but cautiously, scared they might break each other again with haste and roughness. They don’t trust themselves to be firm either. Remus doesn’t. But when Sirius pulls back a little, he comes back and kisses him again decisively on the lips.

“I don’t know if it is still worth it,” Sirius says when both of them are resting their foreheads against each other, breathing in and out one and other, “But I want you to know that I don’t blame you for anything. Maybe I did. Just to keep myself sane by pretending to believe the lies I made within my already suffocated brain.”

Remus lets out a small laugh, which follows by Sirius’ arms wrapping his waist.

“I hope you can still accept me despite of everything, Remus.”

Remus hold his jaw, and tries to smile at him because he still feels like it is not enough. Nothing is enough with Sirius Black. It is always so much, even in this flickering flame which is almost dead. He knows that it will ignite again to fiery life once they become one. They are dangerously perfect for each other. He leans in to kiss the back of his ear, and inhales a whiff just like the wolf would do when Padfoot would return on first full moon after the summers, to recognize his mate. Sirius smells of rain and cigarette, mixing the aroma of the tea that has been sitting out in two mugs before their argument.

“I do. And I hope the same from you for myself?” Remus cringes after he realizes how lame they sound next to Sirius’ words. After few minutes which feels like hours to Remus, Sirius gropes his hands to hold both of his wrists, with his eyes still locked with Remus. He then bends down to press a lingering kiss on the right, and then on the left. Remus just looks at him, feeling utterly weightless in Sirius’ hands.

“I will not fail you again, Remus.”

“I trust you. I love you,” Remus says with all of the broken words spilling out his mouth, “I love you so much. I will not let you go. I will not let you be alone.”

They embraces each other again, just enjoying the warmth and the closeness. It reminds Remus of their time at Hogwarts when their limbs used to be wrapped around each other at every possible free period, smoking cigarettes at the Astronomy Tower.

“Don’t make such promises, my dear Moony.”

“You’re just saying that because you’ll be annoyed of me for sticking around you all the time.” Remus wipes his tears, and Sirius helps him too with his sleeve, shaking with silent laughter.

“Yeah, maybe. Just don’t follow me in the bathroom.”

“Can’t make such promises, my dear Padfoot.”

 Thankyou for reading!

[multi-lefaiye]

incorrect quotes heehoo

Tagged by @annarts05 hehe thank you for the tag!!! I love doing stuff like this :3

Anyway I decided to do this with the Bleeding Over Eden cast! Since there’s six main characters, though, uhhhhhh I bounced around a little ASDFJKL. Tried to pick ones that are at least mostly in character hehe.

CW: mentions of drug use, suicide, and murder (all in a comedic fashion though)

Ink: I have an idea.

Lorelei: A good idea?

Ink: Let's not get ahead of ourselves.

Asa: Do you want to know your gay name?

Ink: My... my gay name?

Asa: Yeah, it's your first name-

Ink: Haha. Very funny Asa-

Asa: *gets down on one knee* And my last name.

Ink: Oh- oh my god.

Ink: We have a problem.

Andy: No, YOU have a problem. I have an idiot who keeps making them.

Asa: It's pretty cold outside.. wanna hold hands? We should stay close.

Ink, blushing: Okay.

Andy: It's fucking summer.

Asa: For self defense reasons, I'm going to pretend to be a burglar and you guys have to act wisely.

Ink, Arthur, & Andy: Okay.

Asa: If you don't want to die, give me all your money.

Andy: Bold of you to assume I have money.

Ink: Bold of you to assume I don't want to die.

Arthur: Bold of you to assume I can die.

Scarlet: You look like a corpse that was just pulled out of the river.

Ink: Wrong. I look like a cool rock star who just OD'd in their own pool. Big difference.

Ink: Why are you doing this?

Arthur: Same reason I do everything, Ink. To get somebody to like me.

Andy: When I first met you, I did not like you.

Arthur: I'm aware of that.

Andy: But then you and I had some time together.

Arthur: Uh-huh?

Andy: It did not get better.

Asa: What is wrong with you?

Arthur: Loaded question. Elaborate.

Scarlet: I can’t believe all these people are wearing black. Black is supposed to be my thing, they’re all just posers.

Lorelei: Scarlet, for the last time, we’re at a funeral.

Scarlet: I need life advice.

Arthur, sipping Gatorade and eating cookie dough: You came to the right person.

Asa: Do you take constructive criticism?

Scarlet: No, only cash or credit.

Andy: Remember what I told you.

Scarlet: Don’t be a bitch.

Lorelei: I just wanna be called cute 21/7.

Andy: Why not 24/7?

Lorelei: Snack breaks.

And, finally, to round this off <3

Arthur: *seductively takes off glasses*

Arthur: Wow...

Ink: *blushes* Haha... what?

Arthur: You're really fucking blurry.

Okay this got a little longer than I meant it to, I just wanted to play around with these characters as much as I could hehe <3

I think I’ll leave this as an open tag--if you want to play around with the generator, feel free!!! And absolutely feel free to tag me as well, so I can see! <3

The generator is over here: [link]

[flamencodiva]

A Different League 1 - Walls

Description: Y/N never experienced the life of luxury. Being the daughter of a hunter never gave her that experience. But what happens when she finds a job working for one of the most prestigious hunting companies in the world?

Word Count: 1960

Beta: @wonder-cole

Warnings: Language, Violence, Angst, Fluff, Smut, Slow Burn (yes, that's a warning), Rivals to Idiots, Idiots to Lovers, Lovers to Idiots.

Main Masterlist 

Series Masterlist

<< Prologue 

Code Red! Code Red!’

The red lights and alarm sounded throughout the building.

‘Level 10 monster detected.’

Y/N Y/L/N made her way through the hall towards the locker rooms to suit up. As usual, she was part of the ground team, which did all the messy work when hunting monsters for Hunter Corp.

Marching down the hallway, she made her way to the briefing room, grabbing the folder handed to her and reading it right away.

“Think this is the one?” Benny asked, standing by her with his folder.

Y/N shrugged her shoulders, “don’t know. Maybe it is. But according to the data recon has gathered, not likely. If it’s a level ten, then--”

“It’s most likely an Alpha monster,” Ketch interrupted. “Y/N, darling, when are you going to take me up on that offer to wine and dine you?” he asked, trying to flirt with the huntress.

“When hell freezes over, Arthur,” she sighed, “I’ve said it once, and I’ll say it again, my focus is on work, not my--”

“Libido,” Benny and Ketch echoed with matching smiles.

“We know, Cher,” Benny chuckled, “then again I did see you eyeing--”

“You say it, and I hog tie you and castrate you,” Y/N growled, “I lived on a ranch for a good amount of years while dad was taking care of a pack. Don’t think I won’t do it, Benjamin.”

Benny lifted his hands in surrender and chuckled, walking toward his seat on the conference table. Other squad leaders filtered in as they were ready to talk about the Level 10 monster that had appeared. This included the two sons of the CEO, the eldest of the two, Dean, taking a seat next to Y/N.

“Units 1 and 2, you will take the lead on this, “ John Winchester said as he walked into the room, taking a seat at the head of the table. “These two units will oversee operations and capture. I will repeat that,” he said, looking at each unit leader in turn, “capture the target. Our goal is to learn as much as we can before eradicating their species.”

“Do we have the special equipment that I had made for occasions like this?” Y/N asked as she flipped through the different pages, analyzing the data collected. “Do we also know what kind of Alpha we’re dealing with?”

“As of right now, we just know it’s an Alpha. I’m waiting on relay team Gamma to get back with the complete analysis,” John announced, impressed with his top hunter. “But I do want my best teams there in case something goes wrong.”

Y/N simply hummed as she let her mind process the strategy the boss set up. Her boss wasn’t wrong. Her squad, along with Snob, as she liked to call Dean, would be a formidable force. That is if he wasn’t trying to talk about his exploits on a private jet.

No matter where they were, he always had some way of interjecting how nice it is to have money and experience things. Y/N has never had the pleasure of doing. Sure she had the money to do those things now, but she never saw the big deal. It only spurred her annoyance at Snob when he would try to make conversation with her. They had nothing in common, yet he continued to try to talk to her while she ignored him.

After the meeting ended, Y/N made her way back to her room. She was the only one of the squad leaders not to have a place of her own. It was something that didn’t go unnoticed by the other leaders, especially John. Y/N would brush off the comments of her not having a place to unwind away from work. In all honesty, she didn’t know what else to do. She grew up hunting, and she figured living in the facility would give her faster reaction time to save more lives.

As she packed her things, she could feel a pair of eyes on her.

“What do you want?” she called out, never facing the person who stood at her doorway.

“I was wondering--”

“No, Dean. I will not go to whatever fancy place you want to take me to,” she sighed, moving around her room to collect what she would think she would need.

“I’m not, Ketch,” Dean grumbled, “And I know for a fact that you barely leave the compound. You don’t even have your own place.”

“Why do you care, Snob,” she hissed at him. “To someone like you, I’m just a worker. Why do you care that I live in the compound?”

“If this is about the gala, I already apologized,” Dean whined, “What more do you want from me?”

“To let me do my job,” Y/N huffed, slinging her bag over her shoulder and pushing past him, “and right now, my job is to make sure we know what we are dealing with before we go in blind and kill good hunters on a hunch.”

“The recon team--”

“Has been wrong before,” she pointed out, “Your brother has been wrong before and at my expense!”

“Samuel would never-” Dean began.

“He has, and he did, Dean,” she argued. “That scar on my back was not because I thought it would be fun to ignore that there was another Rugaru.”

She glared at him, “It was because I was told by your brother that there was only one when there were, in fact, three of them.”

Dean stayed silent as she walked away from him and towards the garage. Never in his life had a woman angered and enamored him before. The minute he had laid eyes on Y/N three years ago at the gala, he could feel his heart pound in his chest. His insecurities had gotten the better of him, and he had to play the millionaire asshole. When she didn’t bow down to his charm, he was intrigued.

After a year of training, moving up the ranks, and being her partner, Dean learned that Y/N was all business. Not like any of the girls he ever dated or bedded. Y/N had a drive, but what it was, she wouldn’t say. Y/N began to distance herself more from him for every case they had, only communicating if it had to do with the hunt and to turn down his invitations.

Dean made it to his dorm with a deep sigh and began packing his things, hoping he could try to break through the walls Y/N built with this hunt.

Looking at her watch, Y/N wondered where Charlie was? Usually, Charlie would be her research partner on cases like these. Well, Charlie is always her choice as a research partner. The woman was a genius when it came to technology and making her way into security footage to search for monsters.

Y/N didn’t notice as Charlie walked up behind her. Most of Y/N’s attention was on the recon folder. She was trying to assess what the team had found.

“You know,” Charlie said as she approached Y/N, “You’re really taking this not thinking with your libido thing a bit too far.”

“I am focused on my work,” Y/N replied, never taking her eyes off the file. “I have a feeling we’re dealing with a Shifter-Alpha.”

“What gives you that idea?” Charlie asked as she sat down next to Y/N.

“It’s the fact that in every house reported, Mom and Dad are dead,” Y/N pointed out as she pushed the folder towards Charlie. “But the baby goes missing,” she pointed to the details in every story.

“Huh,” Charlie let out, tilting her head to the side as she looked over the notes, “I guess that means we’re heading out early?”

“No,” Y/N sighed, “going to talk to John first.”

“Really?” Charlie gasped, “you’re usually gung-ho about going when you have a hunch like this?”

“Okay, I’m a hunter, not suicidal,” Y/N drawled.

It didn’t take long for Y/N to point out the details in the story and voice her suspicions to John. Of course, when John agreed with her suspicions, he organized all quad leaders and put his plan in motion. Nearing the next house that Alpha would attack, Dean and Y/N placed themselves in charge of moving in to capture the monster.

‘Leader 1,’ came Dean’s voice through the walkie-talkie, ‘we have movement inside the house. I repeat, we have movement inside the house.’

“Copy that, Leader 2,” she responded before taking a breath, “Red-Recon, Red-Recon, what do we have on the video feed?”

‘Can’t I have a cooler nickname?’ Charlie whined through the intercom, ‘like Red Hawk!’

Y/N rolled her eyes, letting out a chuckle before responding, “Okay, Red Hawk, can you just tell me what the video feed shows?”

‘You were right, Leader 1,’ Charlie confirmed, ‘glowing eyes in the feed. We’re dealing with a nest of shifters. We also are seeing a large nursery through the micro-cam footage.’

“Shit,” Y/N cursed, “we might need to abort and come up with--”

‘You are going to do nothing of the sort, Leader 1,’ Samuel’s voice came through, ‘we’re here to do a job. We will kill every last one of them if we have to.’

“Samuel, there are kids in there. No matter what the species, kids are kids!” Y/N argued.

‘That’s Recon-Leader to you, Leader 1,’ he barked.

‘Recon-leader,’ Dean’s voice came through, ‘I agree with Leader 1. We are only here for the Alpha. We need this to be a quick and clean operation.’

“I don’t need your help, Leader 2,” Y/N growled. “If Recon-Leader wants us to go through the paperwork explaining why the squads changed Leader Prime’s plan, he can do it himself.”

‘What are we going to do, Leaders 1 and 2?’

Y/N closed her eyes, knowing full well the consequences of her actions, “we are going to go as planned, capture the Alpha, take down as many shifters as you can.”

‘Y/N,’ Dean called over the com, ‘I think your instincts were--’

“I’ll deal with the fucking consequences,” she called back, “we move on my mark.”

To say the operation was easy was a big fat fucking lie. Just as Y/N predicted, getting to the Alpha with all the other Shifters in their way was a challenge. So much so that they had to call Squads 3 and 4 for backup. It took longer than it should have for the team to capture the Alpha, and that was after Y/N was full of bruises and deep scratches. The nursery with the children was empty when they searched it. Some Shifters made it out with the abrupt change in plans, while others were killed trying to let them escape.

Once Y/N was patched up, she prepared herself for the yelling she knew John would give her. Even if they got the Alpha, the method they used almost cost the lives of good hunters. Y/N had made sure to try and save as many hunters from death as she could.

“Y/N!” she heard as she walked out of the medical tent.

Rolling her eyes, she turned away from Dean, who was jogging towards her.

“Thanks, Jess,” she called to the doctor on staff that stitched her up.

“Damn it, Y/N. Please wait!” Dean called out to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I talked to Samuel and--”

“Save it, Snob,” Y/N growled. “I am going to head to my room in the hotel and write up the report. Don’t worry about Douchebag. I will take all the heat on this.”

“Why do you do that?” Dean growled, “Why can’t you let me tell Dad about--”

“Leader Prime,” Y/N barked, “when we are on the job, you address him by his title.”

Dean let out an audible groan, “can you take the stick out of your ass for just one fucking minute!”

Y/N turned to glare at him, “what could you possibly say to me? That you’re going to use your privilege to get Daddy not to punish me because your brother was being an ass? Please spare me. I’m used to this. You and Samuel get away with everything while the rest of us have to struggle!”

“You are such a bitch, Y/L/N. No wonder people don’t want to hang around you,” Dean spat, his eyes widening at the realization of what he said. “Y/N I’m--”

“At least people don’t hang around me for my money,” she spat, “leave me alone. Why are you even talking to me, Snob? We have nothing in common, you live in an ivory tower, and I live in the mud. You stay with your people, and I’ll stay with mine.”

Dean watched her walk away, unsure what to say or how to fix what he did. He hated himself for the way things went down. Dean should have talked to Samuel about his behavior, but Samuel was just as stubborn and headstrong as their father. Dean knew he could only do one thing, and that was talking to his father about what happened, whether Y/N liked it or not.

Dean stayed silent as he contemplated how to fix things with Y/N.ht--’

“I don’t care what Samuel says. The operation could have gone smoother if he had just listened to Y/N. You can’t fire her--”

‘Calm down, son. No one is getting fired. Especially not my best hunter,’ John interrupted. ‘Now, calmly, tell me what happened.’

Dean began at the beginning, telling his father all about how there were more Shifters than just the Alpha and how Y/N wanted to re-adjust the plan to lessen any casualties. As Dean continued to recount the tale, he never noticed Samuel walking in. The younger brother crossed his arms, scowling at his older brother.

“Yes, sir,” Dean said before hanging up the phone.

“You called, Dad?” Samuel let out, making Dean jump.

“Don’t sneak up on me like that, Samuel,” He scolded.

“Don’t, Dean,” Samuel huffed, “You called to tattle on me? You know as well as I do that you should be Leader 1 no matter what a stupid test said all those years ago.”

“Is that what this is about? Is that why you have this grudge against Y/N?” Dean asked, raising an eyebrow at his brother.

“She is nothing but a--”

“Don’t say it, Samuel,” Dean growled.

“A second-rate hunter with no class,” Samuel continued, towering over his older brother. “You need to forget about her, Dean, and learn to take her position from her.” he let out a huff, “besides, she dresses in nothing but second-hand clothing. Does she even know what designer clothing is? Does she even care about the clothes that she wears and how she presents herself?”

“Samuel, her choice in clothing doesn’t mean she is incapable of being a good Leader. Besides, what she wears is her business. And what good would taking the position from her by force do? How would being Leader 1 make me any more capable of running the company?” Dean crossed his arms, staring right into his brother’s eyes.

“For one, it would show Dad that you have the skills to lead,” Samuel huffed. “Y/N couldn’t even stand up to me after what I said. She could have tried harder to go over my head. She has no leadership skills.”

“No leadership skills?” Dean said, his voice rising in anger. “You call putting her life on the line to make sure no one dies, poor leadership skills?” Dean shook his head, giving his brother a disappointed look. “Do you realize that she didn’t go over your head because she feels you would use nepotism to get away with it?”

Samuel tilted his head in confusion, “what? Since when? I--”

“Dad spoils us, Samuel. You know he does, but it’s different in hunting and our lives, and Y/N doesn’t know that. She already thinks we’re pompous snobs.”

“So?” Samuel chuckled, “I love that we live a life of luxury. Someone like her is never going to understand us. Besides, why are you trying to get her approval?”

“I am not looking for her approval, but I am trying to establish a civil working relationship,” Dean said, turning away from Samuel.

“You had had eyes on her since the ball all those years ago,” Samuel chuckled, “‘if you want her that badly, woo her and leave her. Or you could take Bela Talbot on her offer.”

“Bela?” Dean shook his head in disgust, “she is nothing but a low-grade black market dealer. “

“One who has had her eyes on you for a while,” Samuel said, smiling slyly at his brother. “You don’t have to make a business deal with the woman, just bed her and be done with her. She also knows her way around good scotch. Let’s not forget that Bela also has better fashion sense than Y/N. ”

Dean contemplated the thought of having Bela in his bed. Bela had more than shown she wanted to lay with him, wanting to have Dean pleasure her in the ways he was taught. Shaking his head, Dean sat on the couch of the double room suite he shared with Samuel.

“I’d rather fuck a porcupine than Bela, Samuel,” Dean sighed, leaning back to place his hands over his face.

“Then at least go find a sweet lounge fly and bring her up to have your way with her,” Samuel said as he walked over to his bedroom, “I mean, we should put the skills Dad had us learn for a reason, right?”

Dean stayed silent as he contemplated how to fix things with Y/N.

Chapter 2

Tags in the Reblog

[futurebicon]

Dusk Till Dawn

I was gonna post this later but I physically can not wait any longer.

Apologize in advance

CW- death, panic attack, screaming, crying, fighting, accidental slight domestic abuse, self-harm, depression, anxiety, mention of child abuse, food, suicide attempt, hospital, dissociation, grief, hurt, blood, overdose, surgery

Remus didn’t know what to do or how to help.

All he could do was hold Sirius as he kicked and screamed and cried and punched and gasped for air.

“I’m so sorry,” Remus whispered even though he knew his husband wasn’t processing what he was saying. “I’m so sorry.” Tears streamed down his face.

Remus didn’t know how much time had passed since they got the call.

Heart attack.

Overworked with physical activity.

Celeste had called them crying.

It was at least an hour later when Sirius collapsed against him, exhausted from the meltdown.

“It’s gonna be okay.” Remus kissed the top of his head.

“I can’t, Re. Please,” Sirius gasped out quietly. “I can’t.”

“Shh, I know. It’s gonna be okay.” Remus held him tighter.

“I don’t want. I don’t want to.” He sobbed.

Remus had nothing else to say until his phone rang.

“Hey, Logan.” He asked the call.

“Did Celeste tell you?” Logan’s voice was a broken sob.

“Yeah,”

“Okay, uh, is Sirius okay?” He asked.

“Not at all. Are you?”

“No.” He sobbed. “No.”

“Logan I’m so, so fucking sorry.”

Dumo had been a father to everyone on the team but it was different with Sirius and Logan. They had lived with him for years, had breakfast with him in the morning and dinner with him at night, watched TV together, talked to him about what was going on in their lives. He was truly their father.

Even more so for Sirius.

Sirius never understood what a father was supposed to be like until he met Dumo.

He knew they weren’t supposed to hit their kids but he didn’t know that they were supposed to love them.

Dumo was the first person to truly, truly care about him.

Yes, Regulus loved him and cared for him but that was different.

Sirius didn’t know what love was so he ran away from it. Not joining in on dinners, staying in his room, not speaking unless spoken to.

But Dumo never let him get too far. He didn’t push Sirius to join them or talk with him but he didn’t let him think he was alone.

Slowly Sirius stopped trying to escape it and instead started to welcome it.

It still took a while for him to truly open up, but Dumo was always there.

Dumo was always there.

He didn’t leave when Sirius would flinch away from his touch or fast movements or loud sounds.

He didn’t leave when he walked into Sirius’s room while the teenager was having a full-blown panic attack that left him paralyzed.

He didn’t leave when Sirius gave him a black eye because he was trying to wake him up from a nightmare.

He didn’t leave when he saw the bandages.

He never left.

Even when Sirius moved out he was still there.

Remus didn’t know who Sirius would call or what he would do without Dumo.

“Arthur’s gonna call us all in tomorrow and tell the rest of the team.” Logan pulled him back to reality.

“They don’t know?” “No, uh, Celeste only told me, you, and Arthur.”

“I’ll see how Sirius is but I doubt we’re going to be able to go” Remus looked down at Sirius, who had fallen asleep after exhausting himself.

“Yeah neither of us have to go. I still don’t know if I’m going to.”

“Let me know if you are.”

“I will,” Logan told him. “Alright, um, tell Sirius I’m here if he needs me.”

“I’ll tell him, but know that we’re here for you too.”

“I know.” Logan let out another sob he had been holding in and hung up quickly.

+++

Sirius and Remus stopped when they walked into the conference room.

“Hi,” Celeste sadly smiled at them, obviously exhausted.

“I did-didn’t know you were coming.” Remus stammered.

“I can’t stay long. I just had to come by and help write the statement to give to the league.” Celeste met Sirius’s eyes as she explained.

Sirius quickly looked down at the ground.

“Hey, Sirius.” She said softly.

“I can’t.” He looked up with tears streaming down his face. “Celeste I don’t know- I can’t.”

Celeste wrapped him in her arms as he fell into her sobbing.

“He loved you so much, Sirius. He was so, so proud of you.” Celeste told him as everyone left the room to give them time alone.

“I don’t know what to do.” He pulled away.

“Come talk,” she led him over to the table.

“I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have to deal with me. You should be with your kids.” Sirius wiped his eyes but the tears were still falling.

“You’re my son just like Marc and Louis are. Now talk to me.”

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to feel.” He admitted.

“What do you feel?”

“I don’t know. I can’t explain it. It’s like I can feel all the emotions but I’m also numb to them but not fully numb because they still hurt.” He sobbed. “Celeste it hurt. It hurts so fucking bad. It hurts.”

“I know it does sweetheart. I know.” She hugged him again.

“I don’t think I can do this.” He shook his head. “I can’t handle this feeling. I need it to stop.”

“Hey, none of that.” She cupped his cheek. “Adele and Katie and Marc and Louis already lost their father, they don’t want to lose their brother too.”

“I don’t want them to but I can’t take this.”

“You can Sirius. You’re strong. It’s going to get better. I know we’re all gonna miss him more than anything. But it will stop hurting so much.”

Sirius could only cling to her and sob.

++++

“Hi, baby.” Remus hugged Sirius as he walked out of the room with Celeste.

Sirius curled into his chest.

“I’m gonna head out,” Celeste told them with a sad smile. “The kids are with their grandparents and the team’s already here.”

They said their goodbyes and walked into the main lounge where half the team was already gathered.

“You okay?” James asked Sirius who could only shake his head and collapsed onto the couch, letting Remus pull him onto his lap.

The previously happy energy in the room dulled as they waited for the rest of the team to trickle in. The energy rose slightly as they cracked jokes to lighten the mood.

“Alright now that you’re all here-”

“Dumo’s not.” Nado pointed out.

“I know,” Arthur said sadly.

“Hey if he gets to skip why couldn’t we?” Kasey protested.

“Make him do extra laps tomorrow,” Thomas told Arthur.

All of their remarks stopped as they looked over at Sirius as he sobbed into Remus’s chest. Logan had his arms crossed on his knees and head buried in his arms his body shook as Leo and Finn rubbed his back.

“Coach why’s Dumo late?” James looked at Arthur. The coach had tears streaming down his face.

“Why is Dumo late?” Kasey asked through clenched teeth.

“Celeste called last night.” He started to explain. “He had a heart attack.”

“No” Thomas shook his head.

“Oh god,” Lily threw her hand over her mouth.

“They tried to bring him-”

“Stop.” James shook his head in shock.

“I’m so sorry.” his voice broke.

The room filled with silent sobs.

“The league’s going to release a statement tonight,” Arthur told them before falling silent, letting them all process the news in silence.

“Celeste wants us to clean out his locker.” He said a few minutes later. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, she just wants to get everything out of it so she can keep some things. She said you can have anything you want from it.”

The team stood up numbly and walked into the locker room.

“You sure?” Remus asked Sirius as he climbed off his lap. Sirius nodded and grabbed onto his hand.

It was only silent whispers and cries as the team pulled things from his locker and stall.

“Stop,” Remus’s loud voice cut through the silence. “Sirius stop.”

They watched as Sirius punched Remus’s arms that were wrapped tight around his waist to hold him back.

“Let me go.” Sirius snarled, getting lifted off the ground when he tried to kick Remus’s legs. “Let me go.”

“I’m not gonna let you go until you calm down.” Remus held him tight.

Sirius didn’t stop.

The team watched their captain in shock and overwhelming sadness.

“Sirius, you have to stop. You’re going to make yourself sick, baby.” Remus tried to calm him.

Then Sirius is screaming.

Just screams.

And screams and screams.

They’re terrifying sounds. Torturously filled with panic and grief and sadness and desperation and anger and pleas.

He screams until his voice wears out and he can’t fight anymore. He turns around in Remus’s arms and screams with what little voice he has left.

Remus was shaking with sobs as he held his broken husband. Wishing he could fix everything that broke him.

Remus picked Sirius up as his knees gave out and carried him out of the locker room. Leaving everyone in silence.

++++++

It didn’t truly hit Remus until the league released a statement.

Then it hit hard.

They had breaking news on all the sports channels to explain his death and what it meant for the team.

Once the tweets started he made sure Sirius was still asleep after exhausting himself from breakdowns last night and quietly left the bedroom.

As soon as he stood in front of the sink he started shaking.

Moments later it all hit.

He sank against the wall with silent sobs.

He had lost people before, his grandpa, an uncle, but he wasn’t close with them.

He was close with Dumo.

Hell, he’s the reason he’s married to the love of his life.

His first thought when they got the call was Sirius.

And that’s who he had focused on since the call.

All the effort it took for him to try and be there for his husband, left little time to think about anything else.

But Sirius was asleep and all the tweets he was being tagged in that told him that they were sorry for his loss. Now he could process it.

He cried for Dumo, and Celeste, and Adele, Marc, Louis, Katie, the team, the fans, Logan, Sirius.

He cried for all of them.

He cried until he felt someone sit down beside him and pull him into their chest.

He was going to apologize for waking Sirius but his mind was racing too fast and all he could do was let Sirius hold him and cry.

+++3 Days Later+++

“Sirius?” Remus shot up as he felt the empty bed beside him. “Sirius?”

He ran out of the room calling his husband’s name with no response and, fuck, this wasn’t good.

“Sirius? Sirius.” Remus stopped as he looked into the ice rink in their basement.

Sirius was shooting pucks into the goal. Each shot more forceful and more powerful than the last.

“Baby,” Remus called out, getting his attention. But the black-haired man just shook his head after making eye contact. And went back to hit the black rubber.

“Baby.” He called out again. “Come back to bed. Please love?”

Sirius dropped his stick and stood in the center of the ice panting.

Remus could see the tears now that he was standing still. He was wearing simple grey sweatpants that he had stolen from Remus. But his heart jolted when he saw the hoodie.

It was Dumos lucky hoodie.

As much as the older man said superstitions were stupid, he never played a game without wearing it.

The once bright blue fabric was now a dull blue-grey color.

The red letters barely readable after too many washes.

The small New York Rangers logo was only noticeable if you knew it was there before.

The team always chirped at him for wearing it. “That’s betrayal, Dumo.”

Celeste had given it to Sirius earlier but he had refused to even touch it until now.

Sirius skated over to the side and took off his skates quickly before pushing past his husband.

“Sirius” Remus followed him up the stairs. “Hey, stop.” He grabbed his arm.

“Leave me alone.”

“Sirius calm down.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.” Sirius seethed and hit his hand away.

“Calm down and I won’t have to tell you to.”

“I fucking hate you.” Sirius gritted his teeth and pushed Remus in the chest.

“Don’t push me,” Remus told him firmly.

“I don’t know why I married you.” He pushed him again, with more force as tears streamed down his face.

“Stop pushing me.”

“I hate you.” He pushed him hard, Remus’s back hitting the wall.

“Sirius don’t fucking push me.”

“I HATE YOU.” He screamed and raised his fist.

“Don’t you dare,” Remus grabbed his hand before it could connect with his face before grabbing the other and holding them in a restraint. “You can scream and cry and tell me you hate me or that you don’t love me all you want, I’m not gonna stop you.” He told him firmly. “But I am never going to let you hit me.”

Sirius seemed to snap out of his trance and collapsed into Remus. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to. Please, I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He sobbed and screamed.

“I know. I know you’re sorry. I know you didn’t mean to but no matter how angry you are, you can’t physically hurt me, or someone else, or yourself.” Remus held him.

Sirius could only sob.

“This doesn’t mean you’re your parents, Sirius.” Remus could read his mind. “Your parents hit for no reason. You tried to hit me because you’re angry and scared and devastated and so many other emotions that you don’t know how to handle.”

“That doesn’t make it okay.”

“No, it doesn’t make it okay. But there was still an understandable reason for it, meaning you aren’t your parents.”

“I didn’t- know- I- was- do-doing-ing it,” He gasped. “I don-don-t know-why- I- di-did- i-i-it-t-it.” He was hyperventilating at this point. His knees gave out and dragged both of them to the floor.

“You need to take deep breaths for me, baby. You’re going to pass out if you don’t slow your breathing down.” He kissed his forehead. “Try and match your breathing with mine.” He put Sirius’s hand over his chest.

Sirius choked and gasped for a few minutes before sobbing. “I-I can’t.”

“I know it’s hard but you’ve got to try my love. Breath with me okay.” He inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. Repeating it until Sirius started to follow his rhythm.

“Good job baby.” He kissed his forehead again as his breathing slowed.

“I don’t know why I did it.” He hiccuped slightly.

“Baby you grew up in a world where abuse was a sign of emotion. If your parents were angry they hit. If they were disappointed they hit. If they were hurt they hit. You learned that if you’re hurting you make others hurt. Not verbally like some people do but physically. That’s what you had always known and accepted. And yes you aren’t controlled by their tactics anymore but your mind still remembers those lessons that you didn’t even know you learned.” Remus rubbed his back and rocked him slightly as he explained.

“Right now you are hurting more than you ever have before. And you are devastated and panicked and angry. And those are all normal and perfectly okay to feel. But your mind doesn’t know what to do with this level of emotions so it goes through everything that has happened when you felt these emotions until it thinks it’s found a way to get rid of them. In your mind anger had always and only meant pain and hurt. It’s not your fault baby. It’s not. But we’re gonna have to figure out a way to stop your mind from thinking that.”

“I’m still sorry.”

“I know you are. And just because it’s not your fault and that it’s not really you that’s doing it, does not mean I’m going to allow you to hurt yourself or someone else.”

“I’m so sorry.” Sirius sobbed again.

++++++++ 2 months later ++++++++

“And with 5 minutes left of practice, they come calling.” Arthur pulled out his ringing phone. “Hey, Loops.” He put the man on speaker. “Where are you?”

“The uh, um,” He sounded dazed and disoriented.

“Remus? Are you okay?” Arthur asked.

“Hospital. At the hospital.”

“What? Why?” James asked.

“Sirius, he, he, uh, ki- tried, cut. He tried to ki, ki-” He couldn’t finish the sentence.

“Oh god,” Leo breathed.

“Is he okay?” Logan asked.

“They pu-pumped his stomach.” He trailed off.

“Remus?” Arthur asked after a short stretch of silence.

“Sorry. He’s in surgery, on his, uhm, wrist. Was too deep.”

The team all stood in shock.

“Do you want us to be there?” Arthur asked him.

“Please.” Remus gasped.

“Okay. Yeah, we’ll be there soon. Do you need anything?”

“Clothes. There’s blood. Clothes?”

“Yeah someone will grab you a change of clothes.”

“In bag. Locker. Sirius’s. Clothes.” Remus seemed to be getting more and more disoriented.

“Alright, we’ll bring them,” Arthur told him as Finn dug through Sirius’s bag and pulled out a change of clothes.

“Okay.”

“We’ll be there soon.”

“Okay.” Remus hung up.

“Fuck” James collapsed into his best friend’s stall, sobbing.

+++++++

“Oh, shit” Kasey breathed when they turned the corner into the waiting room.

There was blood on Remus’s clothes.

Sirius’s blood was on Remus’s clothes.

“Hey, Loops.” Finn walked in and handed him the bag of spare clothes to change into.

“Hmm?” Remus blinked. “Oh, thank you.” He took the bag from him and stood up.

“Woah,” Finn caught him as he staggered. “You okay?”

“Fine.” Remus stood up and tripped out of the room on shaky legs.

He took one look in the mirror and ripped off his clothes, chucking them in the garbage. Quickly putting on the clean clothes that smelled like his lover, and started to wash the blood off his arms.

He scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed until he felt the faucet turn off and the soap taken out of his hands.

“It’s off, Fruit Loops,” Thomas told him softly.

“I’m gonna lose him. I’m gonna lose him.” Remus whispered around the sob stuck in his throat.

“No, you’re not. You’re not gonna lose him. We’re not gonna lose him.” Thomas said firmly. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Sorry.” He ran a hand through his hair.

“No need to apologize.”

“Um, thanks for, you know, coming to check on me.”

“I got your back Loop, we all do.” Thomas threw an arm around Remus, in support and to keep him upright, as they walked back to the waiting room.

“Remus.” Lily was there when they walked back in. “God I’m so sorry.”

Remus let her pull him into a hug and sobbed into her neck.

++++++++

Remus looked up when someone new walked into the waiting room.

“Hey,” He stood up as Celeste hugged him.

“How is he?” She asked when he pulled away, tears streamed down her face.

“I don’t know. Last thing they said was that he was in surgery.”

“What happened?” She asked softly as they sat down.

Remus let out a sob. “It’s my fault.”

“No, it’s not,” Celeste told him along with the rest of the team.

“It is. I knew something was off. I knew something was wrong.” Remus couldn’t hold back his sobs any longer.

“When he woke up he said he was going to get a drink but was going to come back to bed and I fell back asleep for a few minutes and he wasn’t back so I went to the bathroom cause the light was on but the door was locked and he wasn’t answering and I kicked down the door and he was pale and he wasn’t moving and the cuts kept bleeding and they wouldn’t stop. I tried to stop it but I couldn’t. They wouldn’t stop bleeding. There was so much blood and he wasn’t breathing. I couldn’t stop the bleeding.” He was hysterical by the end. Celeste pulled him into her arms and shushed him softly. “He had no pulse. He was dead. He kept dying in the ambulance. He wouldn’t stop dying.”

Celeste squeezed the distraught man until he calmed down.

“Fuck, sorry.” Remus pulled away and wiped his eyes. “I don’t know why I freaked out like that.”

“Remus, your husband is in the hospital. You’re allowed to freak out.” Arthur told him.

Everything stopped as the doctor walked in.

+++++

Remus’s breath hitched as he stood in the doorway of Sirius’s stale hospital room.

His husband looked up at the noise.

“I’m sorry,” Sirius gasped. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“Oh, my love.” Remus rushed over to Sirius and leaned his forehead against the others.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” The distraught man kept repeating as tears fell fast.

“I love you. It’s okay. I love you. It’s okay.” Remus cupped his cheek and cried along with him.

“I’m sorry.” Sirius couldn’t stop repeating.

“Shh, shh. Don’t apologize. Baby, please don’t apologize.” Remus pressed his lips to his husband’s forehead, letting his lips linger on the warm skin.

Sirius’s words slowly and quietly faded out until only sobs left his mouth.

Remus pulled away and sat on the edge of the bed. He took Sirius’s hand lightly and tried as hard as he could to ignore the white bandages wrapped around his wrists.

They sat in silence as Remus rubbed soothing circles on the back of his hand.

“Please say something,” Sirius pleaded.

“I thought I lost you,” Remus whispered.

“I'm sorry,” Sirius’s voice was worn out.

“I thought you died.” He gritted his teeth. “And I didn’t know what I was going to do. I didn’t know if I was going to live while you weren’t.”

“Please, please don’t say that,”

“It’s the truth, Sirius. You don’t want to live without Dumo and I don’t want to live without you,”

Sirius stayed silent.

“I have never felt so purely hopeless than I felt when I was in that bathroom. There was nothing I could do.”

“I’m so sorry I’m putting you through this.”

“Stop apologizing,” Remus begged.

“It was so stupid of me but I didn’t know what else to do.”

“I was two feet away. You promised you would come to me when you felt like this.”

“I didn’t want you to be mad at me.” Sirius wouldn’t meet his eye.

“What?” Remus breathed out. “Baby why would I be ma- have I done anything to make you think I would be mad?”

Sirius shook his head and stared down at his lap.

“Sirius, please. What did I do?”

“Nothing I promise that you didn’t do anything.” Sirius met his eye and looked back down.

“I will never. Ever. Be mad at you about something like this.”

“I’m sorry,” Sirius whispered. “I’m sorry.”

Remus pulled him into his arm, praying that he would never have to let go.

[emotionalsupportshelby]

I've just ranted to @pipsqueak-loves-everything about ALL of Tommys trauma so here we go:

(I've probably forgot some things but let's go)

immigrant parents who Moved about a lot

Poor af

Dad never there and when he was possibly abused/beat him and the bros... Can't remember if that's cannon or just fan theories but wouldn't surprise me

Mum commited suicide

He sat for 6 weeks and, watched his First and possibly only true love die

Then was drafted into the war with 2 of his brothers and even more to that one of his younger brothers

Had one of the worst possible positions in the war which leads to ptsd nightmares and horrors, was in charge so had a lot of lives following his orders.. Lost 100s of people to which he prob has on his conscious, not knowing if he was going to ever make it home again, fought brave af to earn several medals, got mentally scarred, watched horses die which he said he never got used to... People dying sure horses no

2 closest friends Danny and Barney being HELLA mentally fucked by it, so much so Barney was in a padded cell, prob feeling like he's, the reason behind that cuz he was supposed to 'look out for them', watched Arthur lose it as well

And THEN returned after ALL he fucking went through and was expected to return to normal with no help

And that's before we get to the first series

then we get to season one

him and his closest friend since school have fallen out massively and ada is now preg with that dudes kid

best friend is losing it so much so Tommy has to fake kill him to keep him from being killed

The business he started before has boomed not giving him time to rest

He prob still has that Sargent attitude of if they see me weak they'll panic sorta thing

Dad came back stole money then fucked off

Arthur tried to kill himself

The girl he was falling for betrayed him

Being too scared to sleep incase the imaginary shovels come through the wall before the sun

Season 2

Friends dead

Brothers mental health worsening

Girl he loved moved on

Buisness is on the high again

Almost being killed - several times (I've gotta theory bout one scene I'll come back to this)

Aunt raped

Bros and cousin framed

Season 3

Started off finally 'happy'... Wife.. Son and taking a small step back imo

Then grace a stability for Tommy gets killed

His dad dies

He's against the priest who molested his cousin

The same priest takes his son, the last reminder of his wife

Has a fractured skull and is close to death

Is in WAAAAAY over his head with business - even had to deal with it on his Wedding day

End of season 3 had to imprison his family so that they would then be safe and pardoned for their crimes

Because of that in season 4

Aunt who he is probably close to the most hates him and is on drugs

Both of his in laws hate him

John gets shot and killed, Esme takes, his nephews.. Which fair but at the same time no

His cousin betrays his trust by not telling Tommy there was a plan for his death

Brother was seriously injured

Had to kill another of his friends then look after his dog...

Was reminded of his first (only) love who died, was thinking of her whilst fucking Lizzie which must have been sad af when he realised it was lizzie he was having a kid with and not Greta like he planned/wanted

Was then told to go on a break because business had stopped which was his first break since the war

Had a COMPLETE psychotic break

War ptsd in full effect

Imagining planes flying and bombing

Scared of fox hunting

Then turned to drowning his sorrows in alcohol which lead to his son being taken away for safety and his aunt going to the doctor on his behalf

Break was too much so then threw himself into politics which leads to

Season 5!

Boy is on more drugs than we've ever seen him on

He's hallucinating his dead wife and not only that his hallucinations are blaming him for his wife's death which shows he's still blaming himself 6+ years later (didnt realise it had been that long)

Kills the horse that his wife had because the horse wasn't mentally there

Which leads to his, son hating him

His cousin lost a LOT of the buisnesses money not listening to Tommy

Arthur is probably at the lowest he's ever been which leads to him turning to Tommy when Tommy can't handle it himself but puts pressure on himself cuz #sargentmajor

His work is the most stressful he's had to deal with, people looking down at him because of how he grew up

Most suicidal he's ever been

Is telling his sister to keep her kids & baby away from him

Also his work ends up getting his sisters boyfriend and baby daddy killed

As well as a child in the process

His marriage isn't healthy, his, wife guilting him saying he scares the kids + keeping them away from him

Is around the substance he abuses the most and had excess amounts of it

His plan goes wrong which leads to his best friend who was sectioned after the war because of his, shocking mental health and his aunts new boyfriend being killed also thinking he's found a man he can't defeat

Now I'm sorry but Tommy better get happiness at the end of season six because no one deserves it more than him dammit